Wayward Son: Perfect Blue
by Rainy Meadows
Summary: Finn's been feeling a little neglected ever since Ed came on the scene, but he's about to find out the hard way that you don't know what you've got until it's gone... or rather, until you're taken from it. Contains spoilers for FMAB and previous WS stories.
1. Chapter 1

The doors slid open.

"You sent for me, Master Cyclonis?" asked Ravess as she stepped into the room.

"Indeed," Cyclonis replied.

There was a third figure in the room. They stood hunched over and bandy-legged, hands in pockets, face concealed by a hood, facing away from the master's pedestal. The markswoman didn't know why, but something about them was sending a shiver down her spine.

"Please escort this person to Terra Atmosia," Cyclonis said. "He has been entrusted with an important mission for the benefit of the Cyclonian Empire."

The stranger looked up, and Ravess forced herself not to flinch at the sight of a beady yellow eye that seemed to stare right through her, and the grin that spread wide across the greyish-green face.

A Merb?

"Master?" Ravess proceeded cautiously. "If I may ask, why have I been selected for an escort mission?"

"You are a sniper, are you not?" asked Cyclonis. "I would expect you to know a thing or two about subtlety and discretion. Therefore I must request that you leave your usual entourage where they are. This is one mission for which confidentiality is vital. Is that understood?"

Ravess tried very, _very_ hard not to stare at her new trustee.

"Yes, Master," she said, and saluted. To the stranger she added, "Follow me."

She turned, and the stranger followed her out of the room.

As she walked through the corridors and halls of the citadel, he was never less than two or three steps behind her. She didn't like it. It gave her the feeling that he could jump her at any second.

Did he have any weapons?

No matter. She could overpower him, surely.

"So what is this mission that the Master has entrusted you with?" she asked, trying to make conversation.

He didn't reply.

"If I'm going to be escorting you to Atmosia, the least you could do is tell me your name."

Still no reply.

"Very well then," she said. "I was only inquiring from curiosity. I didn't expect-"

"Your eyes are interesting."

Even his voice was unnerving. It was like the slither of a snake over leaves, just before it pounces on a helpless pugrabbit.

"Excuse me?" she said, trying to mask her discomfort with anger.

"Your eyes," the stranger said. "I've never seen any like that before. So sharp and yellow, like a hawk. No, like an eagle!"

"Well..." It seemed like a compliment, but Ravess couldn't tell. "Thank you, I suppose."

"Can I keep one?"

Okay. _That_ was a step too far.

"Excuse me?!" she exclaimed.

"Your eyes are pretty." Surely this person couldn't be fully mature yet; he sounded like a teenager! "Can I keep one?"

"No," Ravess said sternly. "Certainly not. I don't even know why anybody would ask such a thing."

"Oh," the Merb said, quietly downcast, "okay."

They passed a pair of Talons, who also tried hard not to stare at the odd stranger.

"I like eyes," he said. "I hurt one of mine when I was a Merbling and now it doesn't work proper, so I like seeing pretty eyes like yours, miss. It makes me want them for myself."

'_Properly_.' Ravess' mind burned with desire to correct the terrible grammar. To do so, she suspected, would only put her on this person's bad side, and she got the sneaking suspicion that to do so would be much, much less than a good idea or anything similar.

"May I at least know the name of my trustee?" she inquired.

"Master says I shouldn't say."

Very well. So it was an _anonymous _escort mission.

"_HA-HA!_"

Ravess stopped in her tracks and grimaced in distaste at the sound of the harsh laugh. She felt the stranger bump into her back, as he obviously hadn't been watching where he was going.

"Well, lookie what we got here!" Snipe cackled as he approached. "My badass big sister on a babysitting job!"

"This doesn't concern you, so leave us alone," Ravess said as sternly as possible, but her words went unheeded as the walking mass of muscle leant down, level with the strange Merb.

"How's it goin', little guy?" asked Snipe in an incredibly patronizing voice. "You havin' fun with Auntie Ravess? You gonna go to the candy store to get some-"

He was cut off when the stranger tilted his head up and looked him straight in the eye.

"Your eyes are ugly," the boy commented. "I don't like them."

"W-what do you care?" Snipe stammered, alarmed by how such a short person could stand up to him like this.

"I think you should get rid of them," said the Merb.

Horrified by this latest statement, Snipe looked at Ravess in bafflement.

"Don't ask me, alright?" she said. "I'm just looking to get this job over and done with."

She walked away, with the stranger stalking in her midst.

"Jeez, what a creep," Snipe commented once he was sure they were out of earshot.

When he looked round, he saw a pair of Talons staring at him.

"AND WHAT'RE YOU LOOKING AT?!" he screamed angrily.

* * *

"The circle denotes the circulation of power," Ed read from his book, "and is the basis of the transmutation."

He barehanded and effortlessly blocked Aerrow's kick.

"In order to call upon and harness the required power," he continued, jumping as the Sky Knight tried to swipe his legs out from under him, "a structural matrix must be drawn on the circle."

With his arm, and with only two steps backwards, he prevented Aerrow's punches from getting anywhere near his face.

"The movements of the body are also a demonstration of the circulation of power," he said, and grabbed the redhead's arm and pulled him so hard that he stumbled past his tutor. "I guess it's best to experience it first-hand."

Once Aerrow had his bearings, Ed shut his book with a snap and beckoned daringly for him to come forward. So Aerrow charged, his bare feet giving him a much better grip on the surface of the runway than his shoes would have provided, pulling his fist back for a good solid punch.

But as soon as he tried to throw it, Ed stepped aside and caught his arm again, and this time his momentum carried him into an ungraceful flip and he landed heavily on the floor. Circulation of power indeed.

"Ow…" Aerrow groaned.

"Yeah, it's about time we gave that a break," said Ed, and he unceremoniously dropped a small stick of chalk onto the Sky Knight's chest. "You go over that info for a while and I'll see about getting some food. You're gonna need a _lot _of energy over the next few months."

He walked away in the direction of the open hangar with a cold wind blowing his golden ponytail out dramatically. He didn't glance in Radarr's direction as the blue creature scampered over to Aerrow, who sat up and dusted the chalk off his chest.

"Don't worry," he said, "he'd never rough me up too bad. I've gotten worse from a sleep-deprived Piper!"

He moved onto his knees and drew a circle on the runway with the chalk, the motion somehow producing one that was perfectly round.

"The circle denotes the circulation of power…" he muttered. "I wonder if it would work with any other shape? Like, could there be a transmutation egg or an oval or something? What about some kind of transmutation square?"

Radarr shrugged.

"It was worth mentioning," said Aerrow, and looked back the circle. "And in order to harness the power…"

* * *

On his way through the hangar Ed passed Junko, who was doing something to Finn's skimmer with a pair of tweezers.

"Uh…" The blond stared in confusion. "What're you doing?"

"Finn thinks some of his hair might've got caught in a mechanism," Junko explained, and he positioned a magnifying lens over his eye before looking back into the workings of the vehicle. "If I could just…"

He withdrew his hand, holding up a small lock of hair in his tweezers.

"There we go!" he said happily. "I dunno how this got here, but knowing Finn, he wouldn't want me to know."

Ed couldn't avoid smiling, and started walking away.

"Oh, hey," said Junko, catching his attention enough for him to stop. "You sure you should be bashing Aerrow around like that? Wouldn't it be best if you, I dunno, let him hit you? Just once or twice?"

"In alchemy, it's important to train the body as well as the mind," Ed explained. "Once he can get through my blocks, he deserves to land a hit. And if I know him, he'll get there eventually."

He started walking again.

"But wait!" Junko piped up again. "I heard you say you needed to draw circles to transmute, but how come you and Al and Aerrow only needed to put your hands together?"

Ed paused again.

"If you think about it a certain way," he said, "then after you go through the Gate and see the Truth, your body _becomes _the structural matrix, and you form a circle by pressing your hands together. I guess you could say seeing the Truth makes you like alchemy on legs."

"Huh," Junko said with a smile. "That's cool!"

Ed frowned.

"I-I mean," the Wallop hurried to backtrack, "it's probably not worth the, uh, mutilation and blood loss and near-death experience and all, but…"

To his relief, Ed snorted in laughter.

"No, you're right," he said. "The downsides of going through the Gate of Truth _massively _outweigh the benefits."

* * *

With a grunt of effort, Piper finished tightening the final bolt, closed the hatch and pulled down a speaking tube.

"Okay, Stork!" she shouted into it. "Try it now!"

She stepped back and removed her goggles as the heating array kicked into action, and immediately a massive air of warmth began to wash around the room. It wouldn't be long before it spread through the vents and reached the rest of the ship.

Her job done, she left the engine room and made her way back to the bridge. Already the corridors felt warmer, which she was grateful for. It was only going to get colder over the next few months. Maybe they could spend some time in the south, where the weather wasn't so harsh.

"Feels like it worked," Stork commented happily. "Ah, sweet warmth, how I welcome thee!"

"You could just put on a few more layers of clothing, you know," Piper pointed out.

"True," Stork admitted, "but there's something that's just so _nice _about being able to stand up here on the bridge, surrounded by warmth and comfort. Besides; when it comes to me, sweaters are extremely appropriately named. And wool gives me a horrible rash."

"Is there actually anything that _doesn't _give you a rash?" asked Piper.

Stork tapped his chin ponderingly.

"Uh…" he said slowly, "some metals, I think. And leather. And oxygen and most crystals. Those are the only things that come to mind right now. Maybe paper too if it's not too old."

Piper struggled to avoid giggling.

She sat down at the bridge table with the squadron log propped up between its edge and her knees and, using her neatest handwriting, began to transcribe.

_Squadron Log 12/22/1915_

_We are currently en route to Terra Atmosia, as despite the fact that he's only been properly training Aerrow in alchemy for a couple of weeks at most, Edward needs to return to his home. He says that his younger brother's birthday is coming up, so it's perfectly understandable. Who wouldn't want to spend time with their family?_

_Speaking of which, he seems to have adjusted relatively well to semi-permanent life on the Condor, and it's likely that not having to sleep in the storage closet has something to do with it I'm still not sure how he managed to bring his own money into Atmos, but I'm glad that he did. Things have gotten a lot better now that we can afford more than one or two meals a day. My one concern is how Starling might react when she finds out her room's become unavailable._

_Aerrow seems to be improving with every passing day, in more ways than one. He's become far more active since his return from solitude on Amazonia, and he's definitely taking this alchemy training to heart. He still has frequent nightmares and occasionally goes into panic attacks if he hears thunder, but it's a far cry from what he was when he first returned to Atmos after… the incident._

_Everybody else has devoted themselves to moving forward as well. Stork's using the extra money we have to buy new parts for the Condor, like the heater I finished installing earlier. Junko has currently preoccupied himself with working on our rides to make them run smoother and faster, Radarr helps out whenever hands smaller than mine are needed…_

_The only exception I can think of is Finn. I'd really expected him to have gotten over his belligerence towards Ed by now, but it only seems to have gotten worse since the guy started living with us. He shoots death glares at him every time they're in a room together and quite often looks for excuses for fights or arguments. Knowing Finn, it's just a cover for something else. I wish he'd realise that he could talk to us about things rather than bottling it all up inside._

_I can't escape the feeling that unless something is done about him soon, he's going to do something reckless._

She paused, as a thought occurred to her.

"Stork, do you know where Finn is?" she asked.

"In his room," said Stork. "Slacking off from his chores again."

Piper rolled her eyes. Having given the ink time to dry, she closed the book with a loud thump, slammed it down on the table hard enough to make Stork jump several inches to one side, and stormed off down the corridor.

* * *

"…_where it tips, there's a point where it breaks, there's a point where it bends and a point we just can't take anymore…_"

The song was cool, sure, and it was definitely blaring in Finn's ears loud enough to drown out everything else, but it still wasn't doing a very good job of distracting him.

"…_there's a line that we'll cross and there's no return, there's a time and a place, no bridges left to burn anymore…_"

He couldn't stop thinking about how much things had changed since Ed had come on the scene. Not just recently, but ever since the annoying bastard had first shown his face.

"…_we can't just wait with lives at stake until they think we're ready…_"

Finn had known he was going to be trouble from the first moment he saw him, with his shifty eyes and dark clothes and constantly angry face. If he hadn't showed up, who knew how much of their lives would be different?

"…_our enemies are gathering, the storm is growing deadly…_"

Aerrow would still have two arms, for one thing. They would never have had their universe almost destroyed for another, and never would have found out about alchemy or Philosopher's Stones or transmutation circles or any of those great huge piles of crap.

"…_now it's time to say goodbye to the things we loved and the innocence of youth…_"

And even if all of that wasn't true, the Storm Hawks already had one kickass blond fighter that they knew and loved and they sure as hell did _not _need another one. Much less one as irritating and obnoxious and egotistical as Ed.

"…_how the time seemed to fly from our carefree lives and the solitude and peace we always knew-_"

"_**FINN!**_"

He was jolted out of his bitter stupor by a deafening yell from the doorway, and hurriedly paused his music.

"What?!" he demanded as he pulled his headphones off.

"Did you finish all of the sweeping?" asked Piper. "What about cleaning the floor in the bathroom?"

"I've done it, I've done it!" Finn insisted as he sat up. "I did them both already! And what are you, a slave driver?"

"You're the one who's lying around doing nothing, Finn," Piper pointed out. "I've just finished installing the new heating array, Junko's working on our rides, Stork's keeping us on track for Terra Atmosia and Aerrow's training with Ed. After lunch, I want you to come and help me wash the windscreen, alright?"

"Okay!" Finn threw his music player and headphones down on the bed and jumped up, and immediately collapsed from dizziness caused by the rush of blood to his head.

"And _that _is why you shouldn't spend so long lazing around," Piper said smugly.

"Okay, _Mom_," Finn said sarcastically, and pressed up his body on his hands. "You want me to go play outside?"

"No, I want you to help me in the kitchen right now," said Piper. "Since Ed's gonna be leaving us for a while, we want to show him what he'll be missing out on while he's away, don't we?"

"Yeah," Finn said flatly as he stood up (slowly this time). "'Coz we _really _want him to come back."

Arguing with him would be useless, so Piper settled for an exasperated roll of the eyes.

There was just going to be _no_ changing him, was there?

* * *

The stranger stepped off the vehicle, immediately returned to his state of slouching.

"I have no idea what you have been assigned," said Ravess, "nor do I particularly wish to know. However, if it is truly for the benefit of Cyclonia, then I wish you luck."

The stranger grinned in response, and Ravess got the feeling that if she didn't leave soon, she wouldn't be able to see where she was going.

So she left, flying away as fast as her ride would enable her.

Now alone, the teen cast a hooded eye at his surroundings; the buildings, the trees, the immense beacon tower that was like a gigantic punctuation mark for the Atmos…

"This is gonna be fun," he muttered.


	2. Chapter 2

Ed finished folding his shirt and laid it neatly in his suitcase, and was just shutting it when the door hissed open behind him.

"Must feel weird to be back in Amestrian clothes again, huh?" he heard Aerrow ask.

"Yeah," said Ed, and watched his sleeves shift as he rolled his arms around. "Looks like I might have to get something a little bigger though. I think Atmos might be stretching me in more ways than one."

Aerrow sniggered.

"So did you get Al a present?" he asked curiously.

"You bet," Ed replied, and he pulled it out of a coat pocket. "Check it out. You think he'll like it?"

The redhead caught it and held it up so he could see it properly.

"A bracelet?" he said, confused by the sight of the small length of black strap.

"A wristband," Ed clarified. "Fitted with a shielding crystal that I bribed Piper into cutting for me. It'll go towards keeping Al safe while I'm not around."

"You sure that's not a little over-protective?" Aerrow watched how the faintly glowing purple crystal twinkled.

"Can you blame me?" Ed responded. "You never know when someone's going to try to break in and steal all your valuables or try to mug you in the street. Anything could happen to Alphonse without me knowing about it until it's way too late to help. I sure as hell don't want a repeat of last month."

He froze, horrified by his own words.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "That was a step too far, I-I'm sorry-"

"It's fine," said Aerrow, even though he sounded anything but as he passed the trinket back and Ed slumped in relief. "I'm sure Al's gonna love it, coming from you and all; I just wish you didn't have to go."

"It'll only be for a week at most," Ed pointed out as he pocketed the wristband. "And as long as you remember to study and practise regularly while I'm away, we'll get right back into it like nothing happened. Sound good?"

Reassured, Aerrow managed a smile.

"Good," said Ed, and had the gall to ruffle the redhead's red head. "I'll see you then if Finn doesn't assassinate me on the way out."

He walked past Aerrow and left the room, and the Sky Knight looked around at the now empty space he stood facing.

It was going to be a little bit lonely without him around. He'd grown rather accustomed to the blond's harsh voice instructing him on the physical effects of transmutation on the human body and the threat of rebounds, which had been rather nightmarish in how he'd phrased and described it, or telling him to do more press-ups in between detailing the properties of various elements…

Adjusting to his automail seemed rather easy in comparison.

* * *

"See you later, guys!" Ed waved cheerfully to Piper and Finn as he walked down the length of the runway.

"Goodbye, Ed!" Piper lowered her mop and waved in return with a smile. "Come back soon! Tell Al I said…"

She trailed off and watched as the ex-alchemist walked down the length of the runway and looked over the edge.

"Hey, wait!" she shouted as he bent his knees. "What're you-!"

He jumped, vanishing behind the bulk of the Condor's runway, and she was too far away to hear any kind of response from him.

"Ed!" she yelled. "Are you okay?"

Finn paused in his wiping and looked round, obviously hoping for the silence to continue.

"I'm okay!" Ed sounded distant, his voice muffled by the ship. "Just a bit wobbly in the knees! Might have to stop doing jumps like that in the future! I'll see you guys in a week!"

Piper sighed with relief, and Finn went back to washing the windscreens with a huff. He wiped his cloth across the glass with a deafening squeak.

"Finn, the squeak means it's already clean," Piper pointed out.

Finn ignored her, cringing as he peeled off a dead dragonfly and tried to shake it off his fingers. Trying not to giggle at the sight of his desperation, Piper slapped her mop head against the glass and swiped it around, trying to clean off as many dead flies as she could in a single motion.

"This is so gross," Finn complained. "Why did you have to drag me into this?"

"Stop complaining already," said Piper. "You knew this had to be done. We can't fly around the skies if the windscreen's covered in bugs, can we?"

Finn's frown deepened as he finally got the dead bug off his fingers by wiping it on the railing, then returned to wiping.

"You're not just angry about having to do this, are you?" asked Piper. "Is it Ed?"

"Mmmph," Finn responded.

"I thought you'd be happy," said Piper, and used the end of her mop handle to scrape off another dead dragonfly. "He's going to be gone for a whole week. A whole week without him hanging around. Aren't you glad of that?"

"I would be," said Finn, "except he's gonna be coming back. You _know_ he's going to be coming back, so why are you being so chipper about it?"

He paused and stared at the glass.

"What is that?" he demanded, pointing at a vaguely bird shaped mark imprinted there.

"We don't just run into bugs, Finn," Piper pointed out. "You should know we're going to get the occasional bird as well. Looks like this one must've been an owl. I hope it wasn't too badly hurt."

As she started wiping at it with her mop, Finn looked over the railing and saw Ed disappear behind a tree, heading in the direction of the Breach. Perhaps if the stars were to align in the right fashion and Lady Luck were to smile on the marksman, a branch would drop off and land on him, crushing him and erasing him from their lives for good.

But no. He soon came into view again, and stepped into the glowing, throbbing sheet of light that was only there because of him anyway.

"Finn, when are you going to get over him?" asked Piper, who had almost finished scrubbing off the bird print. "I figured after his younger brother saved your life-"

"Al's different," Finn protested, forcing himself to look away from the eye-sucking brightness of the Breach. "Not only is he a bajillion times nicer, but he didn't try to start something with me the moment we met. He actually _apologised _for not being able to get to me sooner, whereas his son of a bog-howler brother has only just started trying to make up for Aerrow losing his arm-"

"That wasn't his fault!"

"It is and you know it!" Finn slapped his cloth hard enough against the glass to make it shudder worryingly. "And the sooner you realise how much worse everything's gotten since he showed up, the better!"

He left the bunched up cloth where it was and turned and walked away, stomping angrily like a horde of elephants.

"I'll just finish this by myself then, shall I?" Piper called.

No reply.

"Selfish jerk," she muttered, peeling his cloth off the window and throwing it down into the bucket. "Who the heck does he think he is; Harrier or something?"

* * *

Mid-December in Amestris tended to not be the most pleasant of times, even with the geography of the country. There was a distinct chill in the air: the trees had all shed their leaves, ice formed in deadly patches on roads and sidewalks and on people's doorsteps, the flowers and grass were given over to sparkling frost and people tended to avoid each other on the street, more focused on getting to their destinations as quickly as possible than making idle conversation.

Ed was forced to remember this as he stepped away from the Breach and into the courtyard of Central Command, which appeared to have finally lost the scaffolding it had borne the last time he had laid eyes on it. The cold washed over his body like a waterfall and the stump of his left leg immediately began to complain extremely painfully.

'Dammit,' he internally swore. 'Should've wrapped up warmer.'

He knelt down, popped open his suitcase and pulled out the scarf that Granny had given him (along with a warning about frostbite and hypothermia) and once he'd wrapped it snugly around his neck and greeted the guards that stood blankly on either side of the Breach, he started moving towards the way out.

It was remarkable how quickly everybody had adjusted to the fact that their world was suddenly permanently connected to another. It had been less than four months since this entire region was nearly annihilated by a Cyclonian army and now it seemed to just be business as usual. Alright, there was now a spot in the courtyard that a majority of people had trouble looking at directly, but that was about _it_.

Then again, if people could accept an extra-dimensional being trying to turn every single person in the nation into a Philosopher's Stone so that it could literally obtain God, they would most likely be prepared to believe _anything_.

As it was, the former Fullmetal Alchemist drew a surprisingly small amount of attention as he approached the stairway that would lead him down to the streets of the city. The elevator was meant for vehicle transport, so it wouldn't make a lot of sense to ride it down, despite how much more convenient it would be.

It felt strange to walk through this place so casually when at the beginning of that year he would have done anything in his power to avoid it…

Still, because of his affiliation with the military, he and his family were the first (and perhaps only) civilians allowed to access the Breach. There was still no word on people from Atmos other than the Storm Hawks being allowed through, but it would probably happen eventually. Most likely when proper ambassadors were elected for either side – it all seemed to be taking rather a while.

Of course, Ed was far from an expert on diplomacy, but he figured that things would only go downhill if Brigadier General Mustang was chosen for the role. Maybe General Armstrong would do well…

These thoughts were unfortunately chased out of Ed's head as he emerged from the command centre and reached the street, and was faced by a crowd of yelling, angry people waving signs and banners behind a barricade. He tried to read them: some were creative like "SKY KNIGHTS ARE PIE IN THE SKY" and "ATMOS IS A LOAD OF HOT WIND", others bore such less imaginative slogans as "AMESTRIS DEMANDS TRUTH ABOUT ATMOS" and "ALIENS GO HOME" while one person held a rather confused-looking "LOWER COAL PRICES NOW" that appeared recycled from some previous protest.

"What the hell is going on here?" Ed asked a nearby soldier, despite the answer being rather obvious.

"These chaps turned up seven days ago," the man explained, his face mostly hidden by a fringe of combed blond hair. "They don't seem to be too fanciful in their intentions, though one foolish ass hopped the rail and tried to hurry in. We only just managed to halt him at the ingress and the silly fool was screaming the entire duration."

Frowning, Ed stepped forward.

"Hey!" he shouted. "All of you shut up for a second!"

Surprisingly, the crowd went quiet.

"Don't any of you have families you could be caring for?" he asked. "Or jobs you could be doing? Is this _seriously_ the best possible thing you could be doing right now?"

"We want the truth about that Atmos place!" shouted the man holding the "HOT WIND" sign. "What's really going on up there?"

"Are they allies or enemies?" demanded the woman with the "TRUTH ABOUT ATMOS" sign. "Can we trust them or are they planning to invade us? We want the truth! WE WANT THE TRUTH!"

It wasn't long before the whole group was chanting those four words over and over again, accompanied by foot stomping and the banging of their signs on the ground. It wasn't as loud as Ed had expected: now that he looked properly, there were only around 50 people there, maybe even less. Enough to be noticeable, but not really a big enough number for the folks in the command centre to be concerned about. No wonder there were only a couple of soldiers out here to make sure things stayed calm.

So he stood his ground, suitcase in one hand, knitted scarf wrapped loosely around his neck, and glared at the shouting, sign-waving assembly who seemed to honestly think they were going to make an impact. He didn't clench his fist. He didn't even scowl that hard. He just stood in one place and forced himself to appear as stoic and unsettling as possible.

It seemed to work. Once they realised he wasn't intimidated, they quickly fell silent.

"Go home," he commanded. "Take care of your brothers, sisters, kids, parents or whatever. Earn some cenz so you can feed yourself. Don't just stand here yelling about something you're not going to get by doing nothing but yelling about it."

"Roy Mustang managed to take down Central Command with only a handful of men!" the "HOT WIND" man shouted. "Why can't we make an impact too?"

"Not only is Roy Mustang a very powerful alchemist and a more-than-capable soldier," Ed pointed it out, much as it pained him to compliment the Flame Bastard, "but he had assistance not only from General Armstrong and her forces from Briggs, but also from Xingese visitors and from me. I'm Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist. Look me up."

Nobody dared to argue against him. There wasn't any point in looking up Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, because everybody there knew who Edward Elric the Fullmetal Alchemist was. It was pretty much impossible for anybody to _not _know who Edward Elric the Fullmetal Alchemist was.

"So I'll say it again," he continued. "Go home. Or to work. Or do some shopping, buy some groceries. Call your friends or your parents and ask about your day. Go on a date with your boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse or whatever. Because this? This is achieving less than nothing. What you're doing here is just a massive waste of time."

His point made, he turned and walked confidently away down the street, trying to focus his thoughts on something more pleasant than what he had just experienced.

Of course people would want more information. Why wouldn't they? A single front page news spread followed by the occasional page 8 paragraph wouldn't sate them for very long, and they would want to know more about this world that was now a part of their own. But did they have to go about it in such a silly way? They'd closed the road, for Pete's sake!

No. Focus on more positive things. The train ride. The warm carriage. Seeing Winry and Granny again. Getting to pet Den again and letting her slobber all over his face.

Seeing Alphonse's smile again.

He felt around in his pocket and closed his fingers around the wristband, running his fingers over the stone set into it.

Yeah. Seeing Al again would make this all seem worth it.

Somehow.

* * *

Finn didn't care who he bumped into or what he stepped on/in as he strode, swinging his fists and frowning so hard his face threatened to turn inside out if he furrowed his brows any further.

He just couldn't believe that even after this much time had passed, everybody else was still totally head-over-heels for Ed. Couldn't they see how messed up everything had gotten since he'd bulldozed his way into their lives? How much better could things have been if he hadn't showed up? They could be vacationing on Terra Tropica right now but instead they'd stopped on Atmosia to drop him off and clean the windscreen!

And then there was everything that happened to Aerrow, and how different things had been ever since Atmos got connected to Amestris what with all the soldiers swanning around, acting like they owned the place. How many were there in this town right now? Ten? Twenty? Too damn many, that was for sure.

Scowl still painted across his face, he sat down on a nearby chair and crossed his arms and legs. Looking out at the area around him, he could only see one person in Amestrian uniform, and it was a young woman with a tight dirty-blonde ponytail and a frown almost as deep as his. He didn't even know what she was angry about, but he figured he could probably relate to it.

His gaze wandered to one side, and then up, at the tree that was growing nearby, completely bare of all leaves, flowers or possible fruit due to the season. He didn't know why, but somehow he could relate to this barren tree as well.

"Moody, are we?"

"GAH!" Finn almost jumped out of his skin when he realised that his chair was next to a table, at which another person was sitting. "D-Dr Clipwing! Hi! What're you doing here?!"

"Isn't it obvious?" the black-haired man asked, also frowning behind his glasses and not turning his acid-green eyes to Finn. "I swear these silly cartoons are just getting lazier every day. Is that supposed to be Cyclonia? It looks more like a femur with osteoporosis."

He took one hand off his newspaper and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, indicating that they were, in fact, outside his office.

"What are you doing here?" the doctor asked, reaching for his coffee. "Aren't you in a squadron now? Don't you have things you could be doing?"

"Probably, but they all suck," Finn complained. "I'm not gonna freeze my ass off-"

"Of course you aren't. The gluteus maximus isn't affected by frostbite or any other conditions which could cause loss of body parts, to my knowledge. Besides, I think you'll find that this weather is relatively mild considering the time of year. Certainly warmer than it was last year. I blame coal."

'Jeez,' thought Finn, and he rested his jaw on his hand and his elbow on his knee. 'Dr Clipwing? More like Dr Buzzkill.'

"I'll say again," said Dr Clipwing, and sipped on his coffee. "What're you doing here? Surely you didn't get out of bed this morning planning to do nothing but rampage around Terra Atmosia looking like a four-year-old child whose parents made him an appointment with me without telling them. So what brings you to my practice this afternoon?"

Finn huffed through his nostrils.

"Would you like a tissue?"

"Nah," said Finn. "I'm just pissed about everything that's changed since we found out about Amestris. You know what I'm talking about, right?"

"No," Dr Clipwing replied, and he set his coffee – black and most likely sugarless – back on the table. "I haven't had any more or less appointments or call-outs since the incident a few months ago, and they don't seem to have become any more unusual. At least, not so you'd notice: I had one rather embarrassed man last month who claimed to have accidentally sat on his glasses, but that doesn't quite explain how far up they got. Why do you ask?"

Finn just stared at him.

"Is there something on my face besides glasses or a mole?"

"No, it's just- that sounds weird."

"Par the course for my job, you'll find. You're just a trigger-happy pubescent; I wouldn't expect you to be an expert in the medical field."

Finn's mood somehow sank even lower than it had been. He didn't like people speaking down to him, or even the implication that someone might be speaking down to him.

"Is this a personal matter?" asked the scruffy-haired doctor. "Because if it is, you would be better off speaking to Flora or Fauna. I gave them the day off to work the shop: with more people hanging around this place, there are more people wanting food and assorted stationary items."

"Um…"

"So leave me alone."

"Uh…"

"_Go away_."

"Okay!" Finn jumped up from his chair and hurried away.

Dr Clipwing was good at what he did (being the only qualified doctor on Terra Atmosia, it was something of a necessity) but damn if he was completely unsociable. Finn found himself glad that the tree wasn't fruiting because otherwise he would definitely have had an apple fired at him at high velocity from the doctor's pressurised cannon.

It wasn't any wonder that he needed two assistants rather than the single one that most doctors presumably had. There needed to be two because a single person wouldn't be able to put up with him for more than half an hour!

Not that Finn minded, as the Cloudbuster twins were both pretty cute, if a little annoying at times. Fauna in particular didn't seem to like him all that much, and Finn had never known why. He was awesome. Every girl wanted to date him.

Except maybe Piper. And Starling, and Dove hadn't seemed to keen either…

Okay, so maybe not _every _girl wanted to date him, but he still had his fair share of fangirls!

As he walked, he caught sight of the shop that the girls ran part-time to pay for their rent. One of them was standing out front, and judging by the vivid orange of her pigtails, it was Fauna.

Finn took a deep breath. Her bark was worse than her bite, but it was a very loud bark: the type that woke you up at three o'clock in the morning and made you regret moving in next door to a neighbour that bred bull terriers.

"Hey, Fauna!" he said as he approached, trying his utmost to appear cool. "How's it going?"

"I'm doing a lot better than you," the girl replied. "What're you doing out here, shrimp? Don't you have other people you can be annoying?"

"Fauna!" Finn's spirits soared as the second of the twins emerged from inside the building. "Why are you always so rude?"

Unlike other twins, it was easy to tell the Cloudbuster sisters apart due to their inverted colours: that is to say, while Fauna had flaming orange hair and bright blue eyes, Flora had bright blue hair and flaming orange eyes. It was funny how nature worked sometimes, but Finn didn't care since both of them were so pretty, and their freckles were really damn cute.

"Hello, Finn!" Flora said cheerfully when she saw the marksman. "Are you having a good day?"

"I am now that I'm seeing you," Finn replied with his most charming smile. "You're looking especially cute today, Flora. I like how you did your hair."

"Back off, shrimp," said Fauna sternly as Flora giggled and blushed. "You know we're years too old for you."

Finn shrugged.

"What're you here for, Finn?" asked Flora as her sister disappeared into the building with a roll of her eyes. "Did you guys need some more flour? I know you like pancakes but-"

"Nah, I'm just wandering right now," said Finn. "I'm pissed off at how excited about Amestris everybody is. I mean, what good are they actually doing for us right now?"

"They're giving us business!" Fauna yelled from inside.

"That's true," Flora pointed out. "You won't believe how many of those soldiers need to write something down _right now _but don't have anything to write with, and some of them go to work in a hurry and forget to eat in the morning!"

"Bunch of morons, all of them!" shouted Fauna.

"They're not morons, Fauna!" Flora responded. "How many times have you forgotten the Doc doesn't take cream with his coffee?"

There was a pause.

"Yeah, that's kinda true," said Fauna.

Finn's face fell. Just for a moment, he had hoped that _someone _would agree with him.

"Are you okay?" Flora had noticed his disappointment. "You didn't fall out with your friends, did you?"

"No, we're cool," said Finn. "You know what? I can see you're both busy, I'm just gonna go."

"Don't-"

"It's fine, I'm going."

Dejected, he turned away and walked idly in the direction of the Breach.

He knew that there were probably plenty of people in Atmos who agreed with him – who agreed that things had probably become a lot more troublesome since Amestris emerged onto the scene – but he had no idea where or who they were. He knew that Harrier was opinionated, as usual, but there was no way he was going to try to find common ground with that pompous asshole.

He was alone.

And he knew it.

He turned to avoid the Breach in all its throbbing, glowing glory, and leaned against a nearby building, on its corner next to an alleyway, to stare at it for a while. He didn't even care how weird it made his eyes feel.

He was tempted to step through, walk right up to the nearest authority figure he found and tell them exactly what he thought of their little expeditions into his world, but he knew that he would probably be arrested on the spot if he tried that. And then Aerrow would have to come and bail him out and Piper would tell him off for getting into trouble and Junko would ask questions and Stork would roll his eyes and Radarr would do _something _to tell him how much of an idiot he was…

…and if Ed was there, he would just laugh.

Every group needed a loser. A dumb one to make everybody else look good. And it seemed that for the Storm Hawks, the individual chosen for that task had been Finn.

But why him? Was he just not as good as everyone else? Nobody else was as good a shot as him, so he was definitely needed on the sharpshooting front, and-

"Don't move."

The whispered order from behind him coincided with something small, thin and very sharp being pressed against his neck.

"O-okay," he said, staring dead ahead and not daring to disobey.

"Step to my side," the whisperer commanded. "Slowly. Try any funny business and I'll carve your windpipe out."

"Okay, okay," said Finn, and he carefully stepped so that he was in front of the alley. "Please… just don't hurt me… I have friends; they know where I am-"

"_Shut your mouth._"

This wasn't stated in a whisper, but in a snarl that sent shivers down the blond's spine. He knew that he wasn't going to get out of this very easily.

"You're going to go exactly where I tell you to go," said the whisperer. "If you don't, you die. Understand?"

Finn nodded, carefully and fearfully, terrified that he might accidentally slit his own throat with the motion.

"Turn."

A finger in his back indicated for him to turn towards the alleyway, and he did so while leaning as much as he physically could away from the blade pressed against his neck.

"And walk."


	3. Chapter 3

Piper's mop slid off her shoulder, and she was unable to catch it due to the bucket and other cleaning implements she held, but luckily Aerrow was there to catch it as it bounced off the floor.

"Looks like you could use an extra hand," he commented as the door slid closed behind her and closed off the cold air of the outside.

"More like three," Piper said bitterly. "And before you ask, yes: I did get Finn to help me. But then we had a disagreement and he stormed off. Didn't even look back over his shoulder. Can you help me put all this stuff away since it's obvious he's not going to?"

Aerrow slung the mop over one shoulder and took the still-half-full and rather heavy bucket out of her hands. He made sure he carried this in his right hand, as he still didn't want to put too much strain on his left.

"So what did you and Finn disagree about that made him storm off?" he asked as they walked down the corridor.

"Ed," Piper said simply. "And Amestris. He doesn't want to think that things have been getting better ever since we found out about either of them. I don't think he's trying to be racist – or perhaps a better word would be 'worldist' – but he does seem pretty closed-minded about the whole thing. You'd think over a year would be long enough for someone to change, wouldn't you?"

Aerrow hesitated in thought.

"When Ed was first here, Finn thought he was gonna be replaced," he recalled. "I thought I'd reassured him about that? I guess I'll talk to him and see what the problem is."

"The sooner you do that, the better," Piper commented. "I hate it when Finn gets mopey."

"Why? 'Coz he skips out on his chores?"

"There is that, but it's more that it's just downright depressing. Aside from Junko, he's probably the most cheerful out of all of us, and when he gets down in the dumps, it's contagious."

It was true, though the thought of it was amusing.

"Like I said," he said as they approached the storage closet, "I'll see if I can get him to tell me what's up."

It was only after this conversation was over that they noticed Junko crouched at the storage closet, fiddling with the door.

"Uh, Junko?" Aerrow said in bafflement. "What are you doing?"

"Um…" Junko smiled in nervous awkwardness. "I was putting my toolbox away and I think I accidentally locked the keys in there, heh…"

"Not to worry," said Aerrow. "RADARR!"

There was a crash from elsewhere in the ship, followed by a faint scream of rage from Stork and a rapid approaching pitter-patter of paws on metal until Radarr reached the trio and stood up straight in a proud salute.

"Junko accidentally shut his keys in the closet," said Aerrow. "Do you mind getting them out?"

Radarr rolled his eyes and pulled off a nearby vent cover. He slipped in with a strange slithering noise of fur on smooth metal and the thumping of his limbs against the insides of the shaft echoed out of the entry.

"I bet Finn would find some way to pick the lock," said Piper, "once he'd finished cracking jokes about it, of course."

"Hey, where is Finn?" asked Junko. "I saw him walk off a while ago and he hasn't come back since?"

"Walk off?" Aerrow seemed alarmed by this revelation. "You mean he left the ship?"

"Well, yeah," Junko replied far more calmly. "It was only about five minutes or so after Ed left, I think. I tried to tell him about the adjustments I'd made to his ride and he just ignored be and headed off onto the terra. He looked really mad about something, but I didn't want to ask what."

"But Ed left almost two hours ago," said Piper, and worry was beginning to invade her voice. "You don't think Finn's gone and gotten himself into trouble again, do you?"

"This is Finn we're talking about here," said Aerrow. "Odds are he probably just needs to let off a bit of steam and take some time to think. I'm sure he'll be back before nightfall, and somebody would let us know if he'd gotten himself arrested, right?"

Junko and Piper nodded in agreement, but neither of them looked convinced.

The door slid open next to them and Radarr stood there, deadpan-faced and jingling Junko's keys in one paw.

"Heh," Junko laughed nervously again as he accepted them. "Thanks, buddy. I'm just… gonna go now…"

He ran away as quickly as he possibly could.

"That was awkward," said Piper.

"You think we should put this stuff away and then see what Stork was so mad about?" asked Aerrow.

"Yeah," said Piper, "that sounds like a good idea."

* * *

Stork had never bothered to learn any languages other than that which he always spoke, and that which was spoken by almost every sapient creature in Atmos (and apparently Amestris too). And besides, it wasn't like he'd ever been to school or anywhere that would teach him. He'd occasionally overheard Piper studying in her room, but none of it had rubbed off on him.

However, at this moment, he was proving to be very proficient in Angrish.

"Cummun you fruggin-" he groaned, straining with the effort of pulling, since lubrication didn't seem to have worked. "You sonna momma canna gutta gumman- AH!"

He was thrown back as the crystal came out of its holster with a faint _pop_, and landed on the floor on his back, almost losing grip on his forceps, staring up at the rusty ceiling with rage boiling in his blood.

"WHERE IS AN ALCHEMIST WHEN YOU NEED ONE?!" he screamed.

"Right here," said Aerrow, who entered his field of view with an expression of concern. "What're you doing?"

"One of the engine crystals needs replacing," said Stork, holding up the fading crystal, "and because SOMEONE gave me rubbish lubricant, I had to pull it out myself!"

"You didn't think to ask Junko? I'm sure he would've done it for you."

Stork scowled up at him.

"Are you really that used to being by yourself?" asked Aerrow as the Merb got up. "I would've thought you'd learned by now that you could rely on us-"

"It's not that!" Stork insisted, and fished a fresh crystal out of a nearby crate. "Right now-" he started hammering it into the empty slot with his forceps, "I'm just trying-" BANG "-to fix-" BANG "-my Condor's-" BANG "-engine!"

With a final BANG the crystal slid into the correct position and the engine let out a happy-sounding hum of acceptance.

"Right," Stork said with a smile that was half-satisfied and half-demented, "if we leave now, we might just catch the end of the Solstice celebrations on-"

"We can't leave," said Aerrow. "Finn's gone walkabout and none of us knows where he is."

Stork gave him the most 'are you kidding me' look the world has ever witnessed, and that's saying a lot.

"Fine," he sighed dramatically. "I guess we can stay here for a little while longer. If he's not back by morning, I say we head off without him. He'll figure his own way back to us. He's gotten himself out of worse. How many times how has he got his head stuck in his ride?"

Aerrow found himself wondering about this. Was it twice or thrice?

"Trust me, Flyboy," the Merb said bitterly as he walked out of his engine room, "if there was one of you that I could choose to _not _let onto my ship… Radarr would probably be the first pick because of his fur, but Finn's a close second."

* * *

"One more noise and you're really gonna get it," he snarled through gritted teeth. "Do you hear me? Either pipe down or I'm gonna make you wish you'd never been born!"

_popowEEEESH_

Growling in rage, Finn rapped his knuckles as hard as he could against the piper.

"SHUT UP!" he shouted. "Just SHUT UP ALREADY! _DAMMIT!_"

He tried to relax, taking several deep breaths, though he knew that if he relaxed too much he would probably break from a completely different and far more urgent kind of strain.

"Okay," he muttered to himself, trying to ignore the faint jangle of thin chain, "so that was two _greenaw_s and a _popoweesh_, and the next in the sequence should be a _hurgle_."

He fell silent, looking expectantly – or at least, doing his best considering his current position – at the pipe he was currently cuffed to.

_squEEEF_

"What?" he gasped. "Not _squeef_! It should be a _hurgle_! If you're gonna make random noises, you could at least make random noises in a proper order, goddammit!"

Part of him knew how insane it was that he, the Great and Powerful Finnster, would be so ticked off by the irregularity of gurgling old pipes, but he didn't have very much else to focus on. The bathroom was pretty much featureless except for the suspicious mildew in one corner and the dirt that covered the edges of the mirror, and the toilet he sat on – lid down, of course – smelled of something he didn't want to name, but that was about it. It was probably the worst bathroom he'd ever been imprisoned in.

And, admittedly, the first bathroom he'd ever been imprisoned in, but that didn't stop it being the worst.

To make matters even less agreeable he couldn't even look at these noisy pipes properly with them (and his hands) being fixed behind his back. If this was what being kidnapped was like then being kidnapped _sucked_.

_GREEEEEnaaw_

"SHUT UP!" Perhaps the short chain length, meaning he couldn't move his hands all that much, was responsible for the lack of satisfaction he drew from hitting the pipes with his curled up fingers. "JUST SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT U-"

The door slid open as he screamed his final 'shut up' and before he could get as far as the final capitalised letter, there was a knife again.

But this time, rather than his neck, it was directly under his right eye, and his captor was leering into his face and practically dripping with hair grease. Finn still had no idea who he was – and didn't really want to know, since 'the guy with the knife' seemed sufficient – but was still alarmed at the sight of his yellow eyes and odd-coloured skin. He hadn't expected his kidnapper to be a Merb.

"How about _you _shut up?" And he didn't even sound all that old! "'Coz when you hit those pipes, you know what happens?"

No matter how much Finn leaned back, he couldn't get away from the blade stinging against his cheek.

"Uh…" He searched desperately for an answer that wasn't snarky. "It… gets noisy?"

"Yes," said the Merb, though the word wasn't so much spoken as forced out with a slither. "So noisy, in fact, that you could probably hear it if you were standing outside the ship!"

"Except I'm not standing outside the ship, am I?" Finn pointed out, "I'm chained up in here and you still haven't told me why!"

"It's. Not. Important."

Finn gulped. As far as he was concerned, the worst kinds of psychos were the ones who didn't give a damn why they did what they did.

"What _is _important," the young Merb continued, "is that you stay nice and quiet. Understand?"

"I understand! I understand!" Finn spluttered. "Now can you please move that knife somewhere else? Like, away from my eye? Please? _Please?_"

He glanced down at it. The blade was small, more like a scalpel than an actual knife, but it was definitely sharp. Sharp and shiny and very, very close to his eye.

Strangely, an expression of curious puzzlement crossed his captor's scarred features.

"Has anyone ever told you how pretty your eyes are?" he asked.

Finn had to try very, very hard not to flinch or wet his pants when he heard this statement.

"W-what?!" he stammered.

"They're really pretty," said the Merb. "Really blue. Almost like the sky just before sunset, or just after dawn. They might actually be prettier than the eyes from that eagle lady."

"Eagle lady?" There was only one person Finn knew of whose eyes literally resembled those of an eagle. "You mean Ravess? So you work for Cyclonis? Is that it? But why'd you take me? Why not Piper or Aerrow or someone more important? 'Coz I'm just-"

His petrified ramble was cut off by a sharp yelp of shock and pain as the blade was pulled down his cheek. He didn't know how large the cut was or how deep it was, just that it felt very painful, like someone was pressing a white-hot iron against his face, and he could feel blood trickling down his jaw to his neck.

"Your mouth isn't; it's ugly," said the Merb, and his manner of speaking was dangerously quiet. "So please keep it shut good and tight if you want it to stay fixed to your face."

And just like that, he released Finn from his grip, and the marksman was left slumped and panting on the closed lavatory.

"W-wait!" he found himself gasping just before his captor left.

The Merb froze.

"Couldn't you at least let one of my hands free?" asked Finn, despite his conscience screaming at him to stay quiet as requested. "If I'm gonna be locked up in a bathroom, I might as well be able to actually use it!"

Still the young humanoid remained still. Finn didn't know if he was thinking the request over or not, and honestly he wasn't too sure if he really wanted to know.

Then he stepped out, and the door closed behind him.

There was his answer, Finn supposed. He was to remain here, chained up and busting for the bathroom, until this guy did whatever it was that he wanted with him.

It would make more sense if he was working for Cyclonia. Those bastards would go through any means to achieve their ends, no matter how inhuman or despicable either the means or ends were. But if that was the case, of all the Storm Hawks or even sky squadron members that could have been singled out, why did it have to be Finn?

He knew that he was an important part of the Storm Hawks. He was the sharpshooter, and Aerrow's wingman on top of that. His eyesight was envied all over the world and was probably matched only by the gorgeous glittering brown eyes of Captain Riza Hawkeye. Was that the reason he had been taken? Because they couldn't function without him?

Or was it because he actually wasn't as important as he wanted to think he was? Had he been taken because he was the one member of the squadron destined to save the Atmos who wasn't going to be missed or could easily be replaced? He may have been the best at his job, but he certainly wasn't the only half-decent marksman in this world or the other. The aforementioned Captain Hawkeye could probably shoot circles around him (and maybe she would, given the chance, and Finn would definitely give a chance to see her in action once more).

So which was it? Kidnapped because he was valuable or kidnapped because he was valueless?

He didn't know, and again, he wasn't too sure he really wanted to know.

Just as he was resigning himself to a night sat chained to a toilet, the door opened again and the stranger stalked over to him, and after a few seconds of fiddling, Finn felt the pressure release from his left wrist.

"You try anything clever," said the Merb, "and you'll never leave this ship alive."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," said Finn. "Thank you."

Without another word, he was left alone again.

Was he gone for good? Was Finn going to be left alone properly this time? Or was he going to explode through the door again, knife in hand, and try carve off his lips?

Still tentative, Finn stood up – awkwardly, since he was unable to lift both hands – and tried to get a good look at his face in the mirror.

The cut on his cheek wasn't as long or deep as he had expected. It reached from just under his eye to halfway down his cheek and only a couple of millimetres in, but there was still rather a lot of blood dribbling down his face and already beginning to dry. He could feel (and see) it pooling on his chin, and he wiped it off before it had a chance to drip.

It felt almost strange to see so much of his blood like that. He couldn't remember the last time he'd received any wounds like this.

And with this cuff still around his right wrist, there wasn't any way he would be able to reach the sink to wash all this blood off.

'He didn't even blink,' he found himself thinking. 'What the hell? That whole time, he wasn't even blinking. What was with that? That's one seriously messed up dude.'

_HUUUURgle_, said the pipe.

"_Shut up_," Finn growled through gritted teeth.

He really didn't want to have to actually use this toilet. It stank worse than the stink bombs he reserved for when he wanted to play a particularly cruel prank and it looked as though it had been through more than its fair share of drunken vomitus assaults. Plus he did _not _feel comfortable using a toilet which was probably going to complain at him.

But it didn't look as though he had much of a choice.

* * *

Aerrow turned this way and that, trying to get even the slightest glimpse of gravity-defiant blond spikes, but even with his binoculars perfectly focused, he couldn't see Finn at all. He would have put it down to the darkness of the night or all the buildings that were in the way, but it was far more likely that it was just because Finn wasn't there.

A knock on the other side of the windscreen made him flinch, but a simple look told him that it was just a rather irritated looking Stork.

"Get inside before you get hypothermia!" he yelled, voice muffled by glass and distance.

Aerrow sighed. He didn't want to head back in yet, but it was obvious that he wasn't going to find Finn like this, so he reluctantly re-entered the bridge.

"Don't know how you expected to find him like that," muttered Stork as he wiped the area on the glass where he had knocked.

"It was worth a shot," Aerrow said as he sat – or more accurately, slumped – on the couch. "I mean, how far could he have gone? He left his ride here along with his crossbow and armour, and if he hates Amestris so much, he wouldn't have gone through the Breach."

"And yet you sent Piper in there to look around…"

"Just in case!"

At that moment, the door opened and Radarr ran in, and jumped up on Aerrow's shoulder.

"Any luck?" asked the Sky Knight.

Radarr shook his head with a sad frown.

"So he's not anywhere on the ship," Aerrow muttered to himself. "It's almost eleven at night. He's never been out by himself for this long! Why hasn't he come back yet?"

"Why are you asking me?" asked Stork. "It's not like I'm all that bothered. He's bound to come back sooner or later."

The opening door and heavier-than-usual footsteps heralded the arrival of the team strongman.

"I looked all over the terra," said the fearful-sounding Junko. "I even asked around in all of the shops that were still open, but none of them had seen Finn since earlier this afternoon. Hasn't he come back yet? I'm getting scared!"

"He's nowhere on the ship," Aerrow reported as Radarr shook his head again. "Are you sure you looked everywhere you could?"

"I've been all over the place and I haven't even spotted him once!" cried Junko, and he sat down with the most dejected possible face. "You don't think he might've left us for good, do you? He might not even be on Atmosia anymore!"

"He wouldn't go anywhere without his crossbow," Aerrow pointed out. "His skimmer's still here too, and you know how much he loves it. He wouldn't just go borrowing someone else's ride, especially when his is still here and pretty much intact. And even if he had left, where would he go?"

Junko didn't respond beyond a quiet "…don't know…" and Radarr whined at around the same volume.

"Try not to worry, okay?" said Aerrow. "The last thing we should do in this situation is freak out."

The door opened again and, with a heavy sigh of exhaustion, Piper re-entered.

"I asked around at Central Command and they said that the only person, let alone blond teenage boy that they've had come through the Breach today was Edward," she reported, "and they definitely would've noticed if anybody else had entered that way. Judging by your faces, I'm guessing he hasn't come back by himself yet."

Junko shook his head sadly.

"We'll stay here for the night," said Aerrow, "and if he's not back by then, we'll ask around again in the morning. And if we still don't find him, I say we branch out and start searching other terras. Finn's not the sort of person who'd just disappear off the face of the planet for no reason; there has to be _somebody _out there who knows where he is or where he might be."

Perhaps if he had believed in his words a little more, he would have been more convincing, but the worry in his voice was just a little too obvious for him to be reassuring.

"Does anybody volunteer to stay up in case he comes back during the night?" asked Piper. "Because I'm exhausted from walking around the command centre all evening and I don't think I could make it for two more hours, let alone until the sun comes up."

"I'll do it," said Junko. "Finn's my best buddy. I'd stay up for a whole week if it meant he'd be okay."

Piper smiled.

"You're a good friend, Junko," she said. "Finn would definitely _not _abandon you if he could help it."

Aerrow got up and left the room.

It was bad enough that Ed had left for an entire week, meaning he'd have to study and revise what he'd already learned and read a whole bunch of books rather than getting into the nitty and gritty of alchemy training – coupled with the fact that one of his friends had left and there was nothing he could (or would) do about it – but now Finn was gone too. And the worst part was that at least he knew where Ed was, where he was going and when he would be back. In this case, he had absolutely _no idea _where his oldest friend could be.

Had he decided he wasn't needed anymore and was going to go and find another squadron to take him in? Was he going rogue or planning on starting his own squadron? And if it was either of those things, why? Why would he decide to just up and leave? It wasn't like him at all. Finn's defining trait – besides his clumsiness, sharpshooting skills and occasional lack of tact and intelligence – was his loyalty. There was no way he would just leave the Storm Hawks without telling anybody.

And even if he did, he would always make sure to come back.

Wouldn't he?

As if sensing his troubling thoughts, Radarr nuzzled against Aerrow's cheek, and Aerrow scratched behind his ears to thank him for the comfort.

"Maybe I'm just thinking too much," he wondered aloud. "Finn _wouldn't _leave without telling anyone unless he was going to come back soon after. It's just not like him."

Radarr shrugged. It was clear that in this situation they were on equal levels of cluelessness.

"He'll be back by morning," said Aerrow. "I'm certain of it."

He only wished he could be certain exactly who it was he was reassuring.


	4. Chapter 4

_-an explosion somewhere far away, then a sharp burst of pain in his lower left leg-_

He twitched violently, struggling to run despite the agony he suddenly felt.

_-falling to his knees on the cold ground, seeing through his own body, and the blood, so much blood-_

"No…" he gasped, "no… _no_…"

_-hearing a noise behind him and looking back just in time to see-_

"AERROW!"

He jolted awake.

As he tried to catch his breath, he realised that he was sitting up against the wall, his sheets tangled around his legs, with Piper holding him down with his hands on either side of him and looking at him with a mixture of determination and fear. He glanced around and saw Radarr picking himself up off the floor.

"Aerrow," said Piper, "name five things you can see."

Aerrow blinked sweat out of his eyes.

"You," he said breathlessly, "Radarr, my shelf, my bed sheets, and my clock."

"Take deep breaths. Name four things you can feel."

"U-uh… your hands, sweat on my forehead, my sheets on my legs, and the wall against my back."

"Name three things you can hear. Breathe, don't forget to breathe."

"Um, the engines, uh… your voice and my own breathing."

"Deep breaths. Name two things you can smell."

"The lubricant for my automail and… and Radarr's fur."

Radarr jumped back up onto the bed and sat beside the Sky Knight.

"Now name one thing that makes you happy," said Piper.

Aerrow didn't have to think too hard for this one.

"Flying," he said. "Flying makes me happy."

Piper sighed in relief and released his hands, and both of them slumped against the wall. Radarr gave Aerrow a tight hug and Aerrow stroked his head in gratitude.

"Thanks, Piper," he said. "I needed that."

"I know," said Piper. "The entire ship could hear you kicking the walls. I wouldn't be surprised if the whole of Atmos heard all the noise you were making. You were dreaming about that night again, weren't you?"

Aerrow nodded, and wiped some dust out of his eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Piper.

"No," said Aerrow. "No, I-I'd rather not."

"That's okay," Piper said calmly. "Do you want me to stay with you for a little while?"

"Yeah," Aerrow said, though his voice was shaky. "Yeah, I'd like that. Thank you. Sorry, I must've woken you up."

"No, I was awake anyway," Piper informed him. "I was relieving Junko of his watch, so I'm afraid I won't be able to stay for very long."

"Finn still hasn't come back?"

Piper shook her head.

"Unbelievable," Aerrow muttered. "Do you think he might've actually left us? Do you think he might've run away and abandoned us?"

"I don't know," Piper admitted. "He didn't take anything with him. No clothes, no money, no food, nothing. He couldn't strike out on his own even if he wanted to, and I'm not entirely convinced he wanted to. This just isn't like him. Finn _doesn't _leave by himself. Ever!"

Aerrow felt more than a little lost. He couldn't think of anything he could do or say that might improve the situation.

"Are you going to be okay?" asked Piper. "Just that I need to be keeping an eye out in case Finn does come back. I should go back to the bridge if you're going to be okay with being alone."

"I won't be alone," Aerrow pointed out. "I've got Radarr with me, remember?"

Though she didn't look convinced, Piper got up and walked towards the door.

"If you're sure," she said, "then sleep well."

Somehow the room felt lonelier after she'd left. Aerrow wondered if he might be more comfortable if he could get outside, at least for a few minutes.

"You wanna go for a walk?" he asked Radarr.

Radarr chirped with a happy smile, and jumped onto Aerrow's shoulder as the Sky Knight got up and left his room, picking up his coat as an afterthought.

Walking through the corridors, he couldn't help but notice how eerie this ship seemed at night. The only noise he could hear aside from his own footsteps was the low, quiet background hum of the new heating system pumping warm air through the ship. The fact that they were now in winter definitely wasn't helping matters in the slightest. He made sure his coat was on snugly and securely, because when he reached the outside, the cold air would hit him like a brick wall to the face. His left shoulder was already beginning to complain, and he rubbed it with a frown.

'And this is just with one limb gone,' he thought to himself. 'I'd never be able to cope if I'd lost a leg too. How much pain must Ed have been in?'

"It's okay," he said the worried-looking Radarr. "Just a little ache."

Radarr's expression turned to sarcastic disbelief.

"Okay," said Aerrow, "so it's not so little, but it's nothing I can't handle, alright?"

Radarr still didn't look convinced.

"And I'm not gonna go back to the kitchen and get some painkillers just to make you happy, so get over yourself. You're not the boss of me and you never will be."

Aerrow stopped in his tracks.

"Wait," he said slowly, "did I really just say that? That was… I don't know _what_ that was!"

Now Radarr _really _looked worried.

"I'm sorry," said Aerrow. "I never thought I'd say anything so… jeez, what's happening to me?"

He rubbed his head, trying and failing to figure out how he could have said anything so bitter and cruel to one of his best friends.

"I really need some fresh air," he decided, even though he wasn't entirely sure it would help. "You wanna get in my coat? It's gonna be cold out there."

He held his coat open and Radarr gratefully jumped in and cuddled his body, and Aerrow hugged him to the best of his ability.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I didn't mean to snap like that. You know that, right?"

He was glad to see Radarr smiling again.

When they eventually reached the hangar, it was a surprise to discover that the doors were already open, most likely because somebody was already out there, sitting at the end of the runway. And by the size and shape, it was obvious who it was.

"What's he doing out here?" Aerrow muttered.

Radarr shrugged and made a noise that sounded almost like 'I don't know'.

His concern levels rising and curiosity piqued, Aerrow walked down the runway, trying hard not to shiver as a cold breeze bit at his face. He was glad to be outside in the fresh air, as staying in the Condor for too long could get borderline claustrophobic, but at the same time, he didn't want to spend too long out here when it was such a cold and dark night.

So what was one of his best teammates doing out here?

He stopped when he was several feet from the edge of the runway.

"Hey," he said.

Junko glanced up to see who it was and quickly returned to staring out at the scenery.

"Hey," he responded glumly.

"What're you doing out here?" Aerrow asked. "Aren't you cold?"

"A little," said Junko.

Aerrow figured he knew what this was about. He sat down next to the Wallop, though trying not to get too close.

"You're worried about Finn, aren't you?" he asked. "I know the rest of us are."

"I just can't stop thinking about it," Junko said, and sounded like he could cry at any moment. "He's had arguments with pretty much all of us in the past, but none of them have made him leave for this long before. What if he really has quit? What if he really doesn't want to come back?"

Aerrow looked out at the sleeping terra. The streetlamps were the only light sources aside from the beacon tower and the natural light of the stars and moon, as everybody else had gone to sleep hours ago and was most likely still there.

"Finn's been with us for years," he pointed out. "He'd need one hell of a reason to just abandon us. And if he really is upset about Ed being here, why would he choose the week without him to leave? It just doesn't make sense."

Radarr squawked in agreement.

"See?" Aerrow said. "Even Radarr agrees with me."

Junko spent several seconds looking out at the town.

"What if…" he said slowly. "What if he's been kidnapped?"

"Kidnapped?" Aerrow was alarmed by the notion. "Who would want to kidnap Finn?"

"Cyclonia?" Junko suggested. "He's one of our best members, remember? He's our sharpshooter and wingman, and our friend. He's good at making bad situations seem… well, not really good, but less bad. And even if it wasn't Cyclonia, he's pretty good at making enemies too. Probably even more than you."

"Gee, thanks," Aerrow said sarcastically.

"Sorry," Junko said with a little giggle.

"You're right, though," said Aerrow. "Finn's important to us. I don't think even he realises how vital he is to the running of the Storm Hawks."

He stood up.

"Let's go back inside," he said. "It's a lot colder than I'd hoped for. You don't want to get a cold, do you? Stork will never forgive you if you do. We'll keep searching for Finn in the morning and we're not going to stop until we have him back. Sound good?"

Junko smiled and got up.

"You're right," he said. "You're always right. Thanks, Aerrow."

"Trust me," said Aerrow. "I'm way off from being always right. That's Piper's area of expertise. But thanks anyway."

* * *

Aerrow kept Radarr cuddled to his chest as he sat back down on his bed.

"Yeah," he said, "it's definitely colder than I'd anticipated."

Radarr gave him a look that was somewhere along the lines of 'what did you expect?'

"I know," said Aerrow. "It's winter. I should've expected it. Guess I still wasn't thinking all that straight."

He pulled his cosy red coat tighter around himself and his co-pilot, who eyed him with concern.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'm okay now."

Still wearing his coat, he slipped under the bedsheets.

"You don't think Finn would leave, do you?" he asked.

Radarr shook his head.

"He'd have to have one hell of a good reason," Aerrow said, partly to himself but mostly to his friend. "He'd have to be… I dunno, infected with some super-contagious plague? Brainwashed? He wouldn't let himself get brainwashed and he wouldn't hide it if he was sick. Stork definitely would _not_ let him. I just don't get it. He doesn't have any legitimate reason to abandon us, does he?"

Another head shake.

"Am I thinking too much about this? He'll probably be back by morning anyway. Unless he really did get kidnapped, in which case I don't have any idea what might've happened to him. If he was, I feel sorry for whoever took him. He'll make their lives hell. I give them eighteen hours before he annoys them so much that they beg us to take him back."

Radarr raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Yeah," Aerrow said, "maybe twelve hours would be more realistic."

Both of them sniggered.

Aerrow eyed the coat he was wearing. The fabric was still as red as the first day he had seen it, months upon months ago in the library not five miles away. He couldn't see it, but he knew that the flamel design on the back would still be as solid as it had been back then.

"Is he still jealous of Ed, do you think?" he asked.

Radarr shrugged.

"I probably am thinking too much about this," Aerrow said. "I bet my mind will be clearer after I get some proper sleep. You'll wake me up if I have another nightmare, won't you?"

With a friendly but determined smile, Radarr nodded again.

"Thanks," said Aerrow. "I really appreciate it."

He rested his head back down on the pillow.

"Good night," he said. "See you in the morning."

* * *

There was a loud crash as a heavy piece of machinery was dropped down on the box that Aerrow used as a bedside table, and Aerrow was jolted back into the waking world to see their radio now placed there, gently crackling in his face.

"You got a call," Stork said bluntly, and left the room.

Aerrow exchanged a confused glance with Radarr, who had also been awakened and was just as baffled by the abruptness, before reaching for the receiver and switching it into speaking mode.

"This is Aerrow of the Storm Hawks," he said. "Who is this?"

"Goooooooooooooooood morning, Atmosia!" replied a loud, cheerful voice from the other end of the line. "It's half past seven in the AM and already shaping up to be a B-E-A-utiful day with clear skies and light winds! It's a perfect day for flying out in the open, practising your Sky Fu or for kicking as much Cyclonian ass as you damn well please!"

Aerrow couldn't avoid laughing at how ridiculous this sounded.

"Dad, why do you have to be such a dork?" he asked through his giggles.

"Because you had to inherit a wild sense of humour from somebody and it sure as skies wasn't going to be your mother," said Lightning Strike, "and anything like what I just said is a whole world better than an alarm clock like the one that woke me up at 6. I swear, one of these days, I'm gonna whack it with a sledgehammer."

Aerrow couldn't avoid smiling.

"Thanks," he said. "I needed that laugh."

"Why?" asked the soldier. "What's happened?"

It wasn't until he had opened his mouth to speak again that Aerrow realised he had no idea what he should say. Would he have to fully explain the situation to his father? That Finn hadn't come back yet, as the lack of obnoxiously loud music was telling him? And if he did, how would the man react?

Would he chastise the Sky Knight for not looking out for his teammates properly? Would he be angry or disappointed if he did? Or maybe both?

"Aerrow," said the voice of Lightning Strike, as he had sensed the loss of attention. "Aerrow, what's wrong?"

Now he sounded properly concerned. Aerrow knew he had already hesitated for far too long, and there was no point in trying to hide it now.

"We… Finn's missing," he confessed. "He had an argument with Piper and walked off, and we haven't seen him since."

"And you're sure he didn't come back during the night?"

"Positive. He would definitely have made sure I knew."

All he got in response was a quiet background crackle. He found himself straining his ears, trying to hear something, _anything _that could have come from his wingman, but only the humming of the heating system and gurgling of the pipes (minus the terrible singing that accompanied Finn's showers) were audible.

"Dad?" he tentatively asked. "Are you still there?"

"Yes," Lightning Strike replied. "I was just… what did he argue with Piper about? Did she tell you?"

"He's never exactly seen eye to eye with the rest of us when it comes to Amestris," Aerrow explained. "Ed's left for a week to visit Al for his birthday, but Finn was upset because he knew he'd be coming back. So he walked off and he hasn't returned yet. We're going to look around for him today, but I'm not really feeling all that hopeful. To tell the truth, I'm not a hundred percent sure where we should even start."

"I'm not surprised," said Lightning Strike. "You remember what I wrote in my old journal about when Ace went missing, don't you? So I understand the desperation you must be feeling, and you shouldn't worry about not finding him because he's sure to turn up eventually."

He was trying to be reassuring – that much was obvious – and the fact that it wasn't working only made Aerrow feel worse. He wanted to feel comforted. He wanted to know that everything was going to work out well. And he knew that several months ago, that was exactly how he would have felt.

But things had changed.

_He _had changed.

"I'm going to ring off now," Lightning Strike said. "I'm sorry I couldn't talk longer, but I have errands to run. I'll leave you to do your search and I'll call back later tonight. You let me know if you haven't found him by then, okay?"

"Why?" asked Aerrow, whose cynicism was quickly rising to flash-flood levels. "What can you do? You don't know where he is, do you? And in any case, this whole world thinks you're dead! If you just show up after all this time, they'll freak!"

"Don't worry, okay?" Lightning Strike said gently. "I know what I'm doing and how I'm going to do it. I've been in hiding for almost twelve years already; I think I've got the hang of it by now."

Aerrow felt as though he was supposed to be smiling.

"See you soon," said his father. "Stay strong, big guy."

The radio went silent.

"Are you finished in there?" asked Stork from the corridor, where he had clearly been listening in. "'Coz if so, I'm putting the radio back!"

He uncharacteristically stomped into the room and snatched up the heavy device.

"What's got you so grumpy?" Aerrow asked. "Did one of your rashes flare up again?"

"Perhaps," said Stork, "but also I've been awake since this time yesterday and am currently somewhere between nirvana and hell."

"You stayed up all night?!"

"It wasn't by choice! I couldn't get to sleep knowing that one of our number is missing and it was so quiet I could practically hear the mushrooms growing in the walls and _don't try to deny it! _I've seen the spores drifting around and I know I'll breathe them in eventually!"

Even the door closing behind him seemed far more angry than it usually was.

"Wow," muttered Aerrow as he and Radarr stared blankly at the closed door as if expecting something else to happen. "If that's what he's like without one night of sleep, imagine if he went totally insomniac!"

He flopped back onto his bed, wishing he could snatch just a few more minutes of slumber.

"You think we'll find him?" he wondered aloud. "You think he'll actually show up?"

Radarr hugged as much of the Sky Knight as he could wrap his furry arms around, and Aerrow gratefully returned the embrace.

"He will," he said, partly to Radarr but mostly to himself. "He'll be fine. He'll turn up safe and sound and we'll move on with our lives and totally forget this ever happened. Right?"

The response from Radarr was an optimistic nod.

"Then let's go," Aerrow said, and he sat up. "We've got ourselves a marksman to find."

* * *

For several weeks now, Finn had been considering buying himself a new pair of boots. His old ones were beginning to fall apart, and if he held onto them for any longer, odds were that the hole in the left one would get large enough for his whole big toe to fit through.

However, he was currently thanking his lucky stars that he had procrastinated on this little venture of vanity as he locked his fingertips around a nail head that was sticking out of his right heel, loosened by an entire night of digging around in the ancient leather and wearing the fingernails on his left hand to useless little nubs that he couldn't bite even if he tried.

"Come on," he murmured, tugging with as much might as he dared, lest he lose his grip as it came out and send it flying away out of reach. "Come on, you little piece of… just a little more…"

He knew it was a bit of a long shot. Piper had tried to teach him lock picking, but he'd never completely gotten the hang of it even with all the appropriate tools that were apparently necessary. If he suggested to her that he could pick a lock on a handcuff using a nail pulled from an old shoe, she would most likely laugh in his face and tell him that the floor wasn't going to wash itself. But he knew that – provided of course that he had the right amounts of concentration and patience – he could prove her wrong. And then _he _would be more than justified in laughing in _her _face.

Of course, she was probably going to laugh at him anyway for allowing himself to get kidnapped and chained to a toilet, but once he made his daring escape and walked back onto the Condor to show off the still-stinging wound under his right eye, she would laugh no more as he told his epic tale of escape.

A wave of elated bliss washed through his mind as the nail finally came fully loose and slipped out of the thick leather, and he almost fainted from sheer relief. He had been wondering if it would even be possible, if he could even pull it out, and now he had!

Now there was the matter of picking the lock and making his getaway before his captor woke up.

He shuffled to find a more comfortable position (not that it was easy, with his back aching from bending over for so long and his rear end sore from all the time spent sitting on the hard metal floor) and inserted the sharp end of the nail into the keyhole.

This wasn't going to be easy. If he angled the nail the wrong way, it would get wedged and he'd never be able to get it – or his hand – out of the cuff. If he angled it a different way that was also wrong, he risked breaking the lock and the only way to get free then would be to remove either the pipe or his hand. Finn had decided, once his left middle finger had started bleeding, that if this failed he was going to try his utmost to remove the pipe, because there was no way in hell he was getting rid of his hand. He needed his hands. Almost as much as he needed his eyes.

And besides, the only plausible way he could remove his hand without anybody else helping was with his teeth.

_Ew._

He paused and wiped away sweat from his forehead, and feeling the water disappear suddenly reminded him of how parched he was. He hadn't had anything to drink since…

Yesterday?

How much time had passed? How long had he been locked in this place that didn't have any visible time reference?

And anyway, where was this place? He had assumed he was on a ship, and he could only assume because he'd been forced to keep his eyes closed until he was properly imprisoned (the persuasive powers of a sharp knife were really quite amazing).

If this was a ship that was still in flight – and it was hard to tell since the engines weren't as loud as the Condor's – then he was utterly screwed.

Finn took a deep breath. He couldn't think about this right now. He had to _concentrate_.

'Just stay cool,' he told himself as he wiggled the nail around. 'This'll all be over soon. You can go home and forget this ever happened: listen to some music, plan pranks with Junko, spar with Aerrow if you can convince him. Stay cool, Finn. Stay cool. It'll all be over soon. It'll all be over soon. _It'll all be over soon_.'

_Click_

The cuff fell away from his wrist and dangled loosely on the pipe.

It was a few moments before it properly hit him. His hard work had paid off. The first stage of his escape was completed. He could stand up properly. He was free. He was _free_.

He fell back, wincing as his sore behind hit the floor.

"I did it," he muttered, watching the metal rings glint in the dim light. "I'm free, I did it!"

He jumped up, away from the toilet, and leaned back against the sink. It felt good to be able to stand up straight again, and he rolled his arms around just for the feel of it.

Now he could get a proper look at his wound.

After wiping away some of the mirror's grime, he saw that the cut had dried into a dark shade of brownish-red, the same colour as the blood still stuck to his jaw. Judging by how wide it was, it was definitely going to leave a scar.

He turned on the tap, only for a brief moment to wet his hands, and wiped off as much of the dried blood as he could. Then it did it again, only rather than using the water to clean his face, he caught as much of it as he could in one hand and sipped it up. It tasted worryingly strange, but it was water and he needed it.

'Crud,' he thought as the pipes let out a low _hurgle_. 'Hope I didn't wake up the freak show.'

The door, he quickly discovered, wasn't locked. It slid open as he approached and he looked around the corridor on the other side, his heart pounding, feeling like it was about to jump out of his mouth. After a moment's consideration, he retreated into the bathroom and pulled his boots off. His socks made way less noise, and with how rusty the floor was (how was this thing even airworthy?) he wasn't going to slip on it anytime soon.

He looked around the corridor again. It was still empty.

With the hairs on the back of his neck standing even more on end than they usually did, he crept down the corridor away from the sounds of the engine, praying against all hope that he was headed in the right direction.

When he reached the door at the far end after what felt like an eternity of Stork-style stalking, it opened to reveal a cockpit.

So he _was_ on a ship, and a rather old one at that. Judging by the smell, it was probably an old fishing trawler, since it wasn't just terra-sized monsters that liked the taste of sky krill. He cringed at the stench that thankfully hadn't been present in the location he'd spent a majority of his time.

There was a clock set into the dashboard which informed him that it was eight o'clock in the morning. He'd been here almost two thirds of a day already.

And judging by how the clouds were moving, the ship was airborne. Some kind of autopilot system.

_Shit_.

But that didn't mean he still couldn't try to get help, right?

He saw the door to the outside nearby and pulled it open, and felt the cold wind flood in and wrap around him like a shroud. After spending so long cooped up in a stuffy and suspicious-smelling bathroom, it was exactly what he needed.

After making sure his grip on both sides of the doorway was secure, he leaned out and looked around at the towering clouds.

Not a ship to be seen.

Dammit.

Well, if he waited long enough then maybe-

Finn froze.

He didn't dare move.

Because it's hard to muster up enough courage to even lift a finger when a strong, firm hand has just taken hold of your hair.


	5. Chapter 5

"Going somewhere?"

Before Finn had the opportunity to splutter out a terrified reply, he was wrenched backwards by the head and the door was slammed shut, cutting off any hope of an escape. His captor dragged him to a wall and thrust him against it with a single hand tight around his throat.

"You're not. Going. _Anywhere_," the Merb snarled. "You're important to me for a very specific reason. I have a job to do. A very _specific_ job. And if you go throwing yourself out of this ship-"

"I… wasn't…" Finn choked, straining to reach the floor with his feet.

"No," said his assailant, "you weren't."

Finn was about to try pulling at the tight fingers around his neck, but before he got the chance he was thrown to the floor and blacked out.

It was only a few seconds before he awoke, but he didn't dare open his eyes. He could feel those fingers in his hair again, only this time they were dragging his body, and the pain in his scalp was almost too much to bear. His eyes watered in spite of being closed and he gritted his teeth and told himself it would all be over soon.

Because it would be, wouldn't it? It was obvious he was going to die. He knew it. His captor had promised to kill him if he tried anything clever, and as far as Finn was concerned, picking the cuff lock with a nail from his aging boot was pure genius. He was going to be killed on this ship and none of his teammates would ever know what had happened to him. They'd probably just think he'd abandoned them out of spite.

He could hear his mind screaming at him, telling him to pick his legs up, wrestle his way out of his kidnapper's grip and make a break for it, but he knew it would be useless. They were in flight. He had nowhere to escape to and no means of doing so without commandeering the ship he was on, and he had no idea how to do that. The most experience he'd had with flying a large ship was taking temporary control of the Condor, and even then that was only because nobody else wanted to with the ship being upside down.

And this was so, so different. He was on a strange ship, god knows how far from his beloved home, and in the grasp – literally – of an apparently eye-fixated psychopath.

He was going to die here and there was nothing he could do about it.

He heard a door open and was suddenly released as he was thrown against another wall, hit his arm on several pipes and collapsed to the floor.

Only then did he dare to open his eyes.

He was in some kind of closet off the engine room. It was dark – he could barely even see his own hand in front of his face – and as he felt his way up the wall, his hands hit pipes and rough, rusty rivets that scratched his fingers. He could only just make out the location of the door thanks to an outline of light.

Finn scrambled to his feet. It was probably hopeless, but he could try rushing the bastard. Just one more last ditch attempt. He didn't have anything to lose.

Well, actually he had a lot to lose.

But it was still worth the effort.

The door opened again and, screaming in rage, he ran out of the closet straight past his captor-

-who seized his upper arm and, with the almost unnatural strength of a Merb, wrenched him backwards into the closet with enough force to tear the sleeve clean off his arm and send him crashing to the floor again.

He wanted to get up and try again, but his body wasn't complying. Adrenaline seemed to be taking its sweet time and he was currently in a state of 'That was a rather nasty fall, I think I'm just going to lie here for a while'. It was all he could do to try to pull himself up with a cold draught chilling his now-bare right arm, as if it wasn't sore enough already from the bruises that were already forming.

As he lay there, stunned and struggling to figure out what he should do, his captor grabbed his wrists and pulled them up, and cuffed him to a nearby pipe.

"You're not going anywhere from now on!" he snarled in Finn's face. "Understand?!"

"I understand, I understand!" Finn cried desperately. "I'm sorry! I promise I won't try to escape again! I promise!"

He could hear and feel his voice cracking from terror, and it only got worse as he caught sight of the knife's familiar glint.

"That's not enough," said its wielder. "You said you weren't going to try anything clever, and you did. You broke your promise once. So how should I stop you from doing it again?"

Again, he held the blade dangerously close to Finn's eye, but this time seized the blond's jaw and held him in place with a vice-like grip.

"Please…" Finn could only whisper, "please… _please…_"

"Hmm?"

The blade swiped up and Finn cried out in shock and pain as a fresh cut was carved into his face, bisecting his eyebrow and setting blood trickling down into his eye. He tried to catch his breath but the hand on his jaw meant he could only gasp for air. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he was nowhere near water, but he felt like he was drowning.

"I couldn't hear you," the Merb said calmly. "What do you want?"

Finn tried to gulp.

"I don't want you to hurt me," he said, and felt an involuntary tear roll down his cheek. "I don't want you sticking that knife anywhere near my eyes, please. Please. Please, just don't hurt me."

"Still can't hear you."

The knife was back, and again, it was extremely close to Finn's eye.

"I said please!" Finn repeated, louder, with more tears flowing freely down his cheeks. "Please! Please don't hurt me!"

"Louder."

It shined even in the almost-non-existent light, still as sharp as the first time Finn had seen it, and right now it was all he could see, filling his entire world.

"PLEASE!" he shouted, as loud as his lack of oxygen would allow him. "PLEASE STOP! I WON'T DO IT AGAIN, I PROMISE! _PLEASE!_"

But the blade just wouldn't stop getting closer.

"_Louder_."

* * *

"And you're sure you haven't seen him anywhere else since then?"

"No," said Fauna, "not since yesterday."

"I'm sorry we couldn't help more," Flora said. "You could try asking the Doc, but I'm not sure if he'll be much use. He's out round the back looking at flowers."

Aerrow forced himself to contain his disappointment. If it was any other day he would be baffled by the idea of Dr Clipwing looking at flowers, but right now he had far more important things on his mind.

"Okay," he said. "Thanks anyway."

He left the building and tucked his hands under his arms, as even with his gloves on he was still rather cold. Frigid wind blew past him and his attention was caught as it whistled and moaned through the nearby tree, and silhouetted against the cloudy sky, it made for one of the most depressing images he had ever seen.

'Jeez,' he thought as he shivered. 'I'd like to see somebody put _that _on a birthday card.'

He felt a particularly violent twitch – the kind where you feel as though somebody is walking over your grave – and walked around to the back of the building. There, as Flora had said, was the doctor, and as she had said, he was kneeling down in front of a small white flower.

"Dr Clipwing?" he said, trying to get the man's attention.

"Ssh," hissed the doctor.

Curious and slightly annoyed, Aerrow stepped a little closer. The flower, he noticed, was drooping towards the ground and its petals were shaped like water droplets. Despite its noticeably floppy stem, Dr Clipwing didn't seem worried about its wellbeing.

"It's been a while since I've seen a snowdrop," he said. "They were all over the place when I was younger, but now you're lucky if you see just one in a month."

He straightened up.

"So what're you here for?" he asked. "You're not in a bad mood too, are you? Only your friend was here yesterday and he was complaining about the new world or something."

"You saw Finn?" Aerrow felt his hopes rise, if only a little. "Where did he go after that? How long was he here?"

"Only about a minute," said the doctor, "and then I shooed him off to see the girls. I'm not having some grumpy pubescent darkening the doorway of my practise. Speaking of which, do you want anything important? You haven't said."

His acidic gaze made Aerrow feel even colder.

"Finn didn't come back to the Condor yesterday," he explained. "So we're searching for him and-"

"The last I saw of him, he was walking away from me, so I'm not sure how much help I would be, and if that's all you wanted then please go away," Dr Clipwing said bluntly.

If there was a prize for Worst Communication Skills, Dr Clipwing would doubtlessly be the sole winner. It was obvious Aerrow wasn't going to get any more information here, so he thanked the doctor for his time and left.

He walked with his head down, bracing himself against the cold wind, kept himself curled inwards to conserve body heat and tried to ignore the ache in his left shoulder. The sooner they could find Finn and get him home, the better. He hadn't taken any garments with him except those he'd left with, so (if he was outside) he would probably be freezing by now. Hopefully he'd found somewhere safe to sleep during the night, otherwise their search operation would probably turn into a corpse recovery mission.

He would have felt more optimistic, but he'd already asked around the entire terra already and nobody except Dr Clipwing and his assistants had seen Finn since yesterday. A few had reported glimpses of him, but nothing definite. It was more than a little depressing.

He heard a faint pitter-patter of paws in front of him and saw Radarr run into view.

"Anything?" Aerrow asked.

Radarr sadly shook his head.

"O-okay," said Aerrow, and quickly glanced up at the darkening clouds. "I think we'd better go back to the ship; it looks like it could start raining any minute."

As if signalling his agreement, Radarr jumped up and wrapped himself in Aerrow's coat again, snuggling into his chest and the warmth that it brought. Aerrow figured he should pick up the pace and, after pulling up his hood in case it did start raining, hurried in the direction of the parked Condor.

In the distance, somewhere towards the north, a low rumble of thunder echoed in their direction.

Aerrow sprinted. He didn't have any idea how fast he was moving and didn't care, even as his hood flew off and his feet threatened to slip out from underneath him, so heavily they hit the ground. Even Radarr stared at him in alarm at just how quickly he was moving, and at the stern, almost emotionless determination that was now set on his face.

"Gotta get home…" he muttered as he ran. "Gotta get home… gotta get home… gotta get home…"

Before he knew it, he was running up the ramp that was his entrance to the Condor, and would have paused to catch his breath were it not for the second, far closer grumble of thunder that prompted him to continue running.

He didn't stop until he was halfway down the corridor to the bridge, and fell to his knees feeling starved of all oxygen.

Resting a hand on the wall to avoid falling over, he panted and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"That…" he wheezed, "…that was…"

Radarr cast him a concerned look, as if trying to ask 'Are you okay?'

"I… I'm fine…" Aerrow panted. "I just… I don't like thunder… as much as I used to… sorry."

He straightened up and tried to stretch, and gave his still-sore shoulder another rub.

"Come on," he said, removing his coat and tying its sleeves around his neck. "Let's go check in with Stork. He's probably driving himself nuts trying to waterproof the bridge."

As if on cue, a massive yet muffled sound of rattling started to emanate from up above as the heavens unleashed their rainy wrath upon Terra Atmosia. Aerrow hoped that Junko and Piper could return sooner rather than later, because if they took too long on their respective return journeys they would surely be drenched to the bone.

Surprisingly, when the two arrived at the bridge, Stork was standing at the railing that ran around in front of the windscreen, gazing out at the grey sky and the thunderous rain.

"Stork?" Aerrow said tentatively. "Everything okay?"

"I dunno, man," Stork replied, sounding somewhat more on edge than his usual glum tone. "I've just got a real weird feeling in my gut and I don't think it was something I ate."

After exchanging a confused glance with Radarr, Aerrow took a few steps closer.

"So what do you think it is?" he asked.

"I don't know," said Stork. "I just feel like something horrible is happening. I mean, yeah. I feel that way pretty much every second of every damn day. But this seems kinda… I dunno, weird."

Aerrow opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a grumble of thunder that now sounded dangerously close. From somewhere in the back of his throat there emanated a low moan of fright.

Stork twisted and stared at him in shock.

"What was that?" he asked.

"N-nothing," Aerrow stammered, but he could feel goosebumps springing to life all up his arm and back and had to force himself not to cower. "It was nothing, I'm fine. I swear it. I'm _fine_."

There was a flash of lightning somewhere in the distance.

"If you'll excuse me," Aerrow said, taking a few steps closer to the door, "I have to go the… kitchen… to do some… kitchen things."

He darted out of the room.

Stork and Radarr stared at the empty space he had occupied only a few moments prior. Neither of them moved until the crashing explosion of the lightning finally reached them.

"Uh…" Stork said slowly, "…what just happened?"

Radarr shrugged.

* * *

Piper shook her shoulders rapidly and flicked her hands in the direction of the floor. Anybody watching would probably think she was doing some strange sort of dance, but in actuality she was trying to rid herself of the rain that had saturated her on her return trip.

She sincerely hoped that this wasn't going to become a regular thing.

As she approached the lever to close the hangar bay doors, another ride came sliding through, its occupant watching in terror as the squealing tyres brought him to a halt mere inches from the wall.

"Careful," she said pointlessly, "the floor's kinda wet."

"No kidding!" said the still-frightened Junko as he climbed off his skimmer, only to immediately slip on the extremely wet floor and fall flat on his back. Piper felt bad as she stifled a giggle.

"It's getting really bad out there," she commented, and closed the hangar doors before any rain could be blown in and replace all the wetness they'd shed. "I'm glad we got back when we did or else we'd probably drown out there."

"Any sign of Finn where you were?" asked Junko as he got up.

"No," Piper said sadly. "You?"

Junko dejectedly shook his head.

"Don't worry about it, okay?" Piper said gently. "He's going to come back sooner or later. He loves the Storm Hawks. He loves _you. _He wouldn't just up and leave just because of a silly argument."

Before Junko could respond, there was a massive crash of lightning from outside, followed by a muffled scream from somewhere further in the ship.

"That sounded like Aerrow!" Piper realised.

Suddenly worried for their leader, the pair ran full-pelt out of the hangar bay and down the corridors, searching for the source of the scream.

They halted when they saw Radarr standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Radarr, what's happening?" asked Piper.

"We heard Aerrow screaming!" said Junko. "Is he okay?"

Radarr just pointed into the kitchen, and it was only then that they realised Stork was talking.

"You do realise how dumb this is, right?" said the pilot. "How weird it is that the Sky Knight and leader of the Storm Hawks would be scared of storms? To the point where he's hiding in a closet in the kitchen?"

"Yes, I know!" responded Aerrow, though his voice was still muffled. "I know exactly how dumb this is and if anything that just makes me feel even worse!"

"So you're gonna come out?"

"No! Not until the storm's passed over!"

Unable to contain their curiosity, Piper and Junko leaned in.

Stork was sitting next to the kitchen island with an expression of utter resentment on his face, glaring in contempt at the nearest closet which had both doors firmly shut. The Merb's expression barely changed when he caught sight of the two newcomers.

"Hey, Junko and Piper just got back," he said, eyeing them with almost as much resentment, "and they're making a big puddle on my floor."

"Have they got Finn with them?" asked Aerrow.

"No," Piper said as she stepped into the room, "we don't. I'm sorry, but neither of us found him. Now Aerrow, what're you doing in the kitchen closet?"

She knelt down beside Stork.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Aerrow responded.

"It looks like you're hiding from the storm," said Junko.

"Yeah," said Aerrow, "'coz that's exactly what I'm-"

There was a flash of lightning and an almost instantaneous deafening crack of it hitting the ground.

"SHUT IT UP!" Aerrow shouted from within the closet. "JUST _SHUT IT UP!_"

"We can't shut it up," Stork pointed out, "it's _weather_."

"Aerrow, come out of there," said Piper. "You're only going to make it worse for yourself if you shut yourself away. And like Stork said, it's weather. There's not a whole lot we can do about it."

She and Stork took a step back as the cupboard swung open, and the hunched-up Aerrow revealed himself to them. He had wrapped his coat more tightly around his body than ever before and terror danced in his wide eyes. He even had wet streaks on his cheeks as though he had been crying.

"Unless one of you has a pair of noise-cancelling headphones that would shut out every single bit of thunder," he said, "and would be willing to let me borrow them, I'm not going to come out until this storm passes. Pull me out and I'll just go straight back in. I'm not just going to-"

Yet another low rumble of thunder grumbled in the clouds overhead, and Aerrow quickly slammed the door in their faces.

"I think I have noise-cancellers stashed away somewhere," Stork said with a pondering expression. "They broke last year though, so they probably aren't gonna be any-"

"I can fix 'em!" Junko seized Stork's arm and dragged him up. "Show me where they are!"

"As soon as you _let go of my arm!_" Stork complained as they disappeared from the room.

Radarr walked over and gently knocked on the door.

"I'm still in here," Aerrow said from within, "though I'm really wishing I could be somewhere else right now. What's the weather like on Terra Tropica?"

"Not much better," said Piper, and sat down next to the closet. "I saw it on my way back. It's more mild than this, but quite a lot more lightning."

Speaking of which, there was _another_ flash outside the window, followed by its deafening clap.

"No…" Aerrow could be heard whimpering, "_please…_"

Piper couldn't avoid feeling awful. She wished there was something she could do to reassure her friend properly, but it seemed that he was somewhere far beyond conventional help.

"Why are you so afraid of storms?" she asked. "You never used to be. Is it okay if you tell me?"

For a few seconds, there was nothing but silence from Aerrow.

"It was… he said eventually, and sounded as though he was desperately staving off tears. "I-it was… that night, there was a storm… I-I could hear it… i-in the distance, somewhere outside the city… and now every time… every time I hear thunder or lightning… i-it feels like I'm back there… almost like it's happening all over again… a-and it hurts… it just… it hurts so much…"

There was another rumble of thunder, this one closer than ever before.

"…and I know it's just a feeling," Aerrow continued, sounding even more terrified than before, "I know I'm not back there… that it's all in my head… so I just feel stupid for feeling that way. It… it's dumb."

"It's not dumb," said Piper.

She opened the closet door to reveal Aerrow, who rubbed his shoulder and looked up at her from a tear-streaked face and puffy red eyes.

"Nobody should have to go through what you did," she told him. "You shouldn't be upset with yourself for still feeling it. After what you went through, this is pretty normal. I'm no psychologist, but I know that if you just persevere, you'll be alright in the end."

If anything, Aerrow looked more ashamed than before at her words.

"I get what you're saying," he said, "and I'm really grateful for it, but… but it's not working."

"I didn't expect it to," said Piper. "I just want you to be sure that I care about you and I want you to get better. All of us do. Especially Radarr."

Radarr looked around the side of the door with a friendly smile, and Aerrow somehow found himself smiling in return.

"So," said Piper, and held out her hand for him to take, "do you need some help getting out of there?"

At the flash of more lightning Aerrow flinched, but he still reached out and took Piper's hand.

"Wow," she said quietly. "Cold."

"It's steel and we're in the first month of winter," Aerrow pointed out. "It would be weird if it wasn't super cold. What did you expect?"

"Well then," Piper said, and helped him to his feet as he emerged from the closet, "I guess we're going to have to get you some thicker gloves, aren't we?"

Aerrow smiled, but it didn't take long to fade.

"What's wrong?" asked Piper.

"This is where Finn would make some dumb 'coming out of the closet' joke," said Aerrow.

"We'll find him," Piper said, and clasped Aerrow's hand with both of hers. "We might've been unsuccessful today, but tomorrow could be different. We just have to be patient."

Aerrow still looked doubtful.

"Come on," Piper said, and led him out of the kitchen. "Let's go and see if Stork's found you a pair of headphones yet. If not, then you can borrow Finn's and listen to some music. I'm sure he won't mind all that much."

* * *

Darkness.

Cold.

Fear.

Pain.

Finn felt all of these and more, but above all else was the pain. He'd never experienced anything like it and doubted he would ever again. Nothing would ever hurt as much as this.

_Nothing._

The door opened and he cowered back as much as he could, trying to hide behind his restrained arms and concealing his face behind a knee. He didn't want it to happen again. He didn't want any more pain. He wouldn't be able to take it.

"Scared, aren't you?" asked the one responsible for the pain.

Finn didn't respond.

He heard approaching footsteps and could feel the Merb drawing closer.

"Look at me," they said.

Taking a deep breath, Finn bit his lip to avoid whimpering. His heart was pounding so hard he feared it would jump out of his mouth, cold sweat was dripping from his forehead and his eye was watering. It had been years since he'd last felt so terrified.

He kept his head bowed as his captor knelt down in front of him.

"I said _look at me_," they repeated.

Finn's jaw was seized and he was forced to look up, and gritted his teeth as hard as he dared in an attempt to endure looking at this…

…this _monster_.

Who smiled widely at him, beady eyes glinting.

"Still so lovely," he said. "Like the colour of the sky after a terrible storm. So, so beautiful. Have you ever noticed?"

Finn couldn't believe what he was hearing. This psycho…

…how _could _he?!

He felt a tear roll down his cheek, like many had before it in the past few hours.

Or at least, he assumed it was hours. It could have been minutes or seconds, or it could just as easily have been days or weeks. Maybe he had been in here for months. He couldn't tell.

His jaw was released and his captor left him alone in the darkness.

Had he sensed that Finn was already scared beyond all reason? That there wasn't any point in trying to frighten him any further? Or was it because he was satisfied with the level of terror that the marksman was already feeling?

Not that he was a marksman anymore. He'd never be able to do that job. Not now, not ever again. His greatest talent had been ripped away in the space of less than five minutes and he wouldn't ever be able to get it back.

He'd been hoping his friends would be able to find him. That they would take him home and they could all forget this ever happened.

But why would they want him now?

What use would he be to them?

"Help…" he choked, failing to swallow the lump in his throat. "…please… someone… _help me…_"

He could feel tears trying to push out through his other eye, which only furthered the pain. More than ever he wanted to go home. He wanted to curl up in his bed and forget the whole world.

But he couldn't, could he?

Now, more than ever, he was sure that he was going to die on this old, stinking fishing trawler.

He'd never gotten a chance to apologise. He would die with his teammates thinking he hated them for liking Amestris and Ed and everything related to them. So they'd hate him. They wouldn't miss him.

But none of them would not miss him as much as…

…as _him_.

That bastard.

Finn was a young man of many regrets, but his main one was never properly confronting _him_. Never being able to tell _him_ exactly what he thought and felt, and never finding out what _he_ thought and felt in return. Angry? Sorry? He'd never find out now, would he?

Because he was going to die.

And even if he didn't, with what had happened earlier, he may as well be dead.

'Useless,' he told himself. 'I'm _useless_.'

His sobs reverberated, unheard by all except him, off the metal walls of the tiny room that had become his prison and, in all likelihood, his tomb.


	6. Chapter 6

"_One life is not a long time…"_

Thunder rumbled outside, and Aerrow pressed the headset harder onto his ear in effort to block it out.

"…_when you're waiting for a small sign…"_

The noise-cancelling headphones had proved ineffective, even with Junko's tinkering, so now the teenage Sky Knight was curled up on his bed, reading one of Ed's books and listening to Finn's music. He'd have to apologise the next time he saw him.

"_Patience is hard to find…"_

If there was a next time.

"…_shadows seem to fill your life…"_

He still didn't fully understand how this could have happened to him. How could he possibly have become so hopeless and pessimistic? Even Stork seemed to find some reason to keep going, but the more days passed, the more Aerrow realised, more and more, that there may not actually be much hope for his future or for anyone else's.

"_Don't be disappointed…"_

More thunder. He tried and failed to avoid flinching.

"…_don't let your heart break…"_

If Finn was here, he'd know exactly what to do. Somehow he had an innate ability to lift people's moods, even when he didn't mean to. He was a goofball, it was true, but just the right kind of goofball that never seemed out of place or in bad taste. Plus he knew where to draw the line. He'd proved that on Terra Vapos and held true to it ever since.

"_Don't spend another minute in this way…"_

And if he was gone…

"…_it's okay."_

He closed his eyes, hoping that perhaps the music could lull him to sleep.

"_Dry your eyes now, baby."_

He'd been friends with Finn for literally as long as he could remember. It just didn't make sense that he would leave, did it?

"_Broken wings won't hold you down."_

There was a knock on his door.

"_You'll take flight soon, baby."_

"Just leave me alone," he said. "I already said there's not much any of you can do."

"_You'll be lifted up…"_

Regardless, the door opened.

"…_and you'll be there…"_

Aerrow paused the music, removed the headphones and stared at the visitor in shock.

"This place doesn't seem to have changed that much in eleven years," he said. "Guess your helmsman must be a stickler for tradition."

"Dad, what're you doing here?" Aerrow asked in a hoarse whisper. "Did anybody else see you?"

"I lived on this ship for longer than I was running it," Lightning Strike said as he entered, and made sure his royal blue uniform wasn't caught in the closing door. "Do you really think I wouldn't know about any secret ways in or out?"

He paused in the middle of the room and looked around.

"So you redecorated," he said. "I rather like it. Though I see you haven't got rid of my handiwork completely."

Aerrow looked up at the large edge-of-shield-shaped dent in the ceiling.

"Yeah," he said as Lightning Strike sat down next to him on the bed, "not even Junko could pummel it down. You must've been in some kinda rage, huh?"

"You could say that," the man replied with a smile.

Aerrow propped himself up on his elbows.

"Why did you come here?" he asked. "You know it's risky for you just being in Atmos, don't you? If somebody recognised you, word would spread and then we'd get into all kinds of trouble!"

"And I'm willing to risk that," said Lightning Strike, "if it means making sure you're alright."

The younger redhead was too stunned to know how to respond.

"Don't tell me you've outgrown your old man already," said the soldier with a rather cheeky smile.

Aerrow found himself smiling, but again, it quickly faded.

"You're worried about your friend, aren't you?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "I searched and asked around all over this terra and I didn't find him anywhere, or even just a tiny little clue for where he could be. I even got Junko and Piper to look around on other terras nearby in case he was on one of them somehow, but that turned out worthless. I remember reading about when it happened to you – when it was Ace – but you were in flight! We've been grounded here for over two days now and there's no way Finn could leave this terra!"

Lightning Strike sat silent, listening to his rant, patiently taking it in.

"And you're probably going to say some Dad thing," Aerrow said bitterly, "like how the sky krill never strays far from the shoal or something like that-"

"What am I, a greetings card?" the soldier said sarcastically. "I was just going to tell you not to stop hoping."

Again, Aerrow wasn't sure what to say.

"You want to be a Sky Knight, right?" said his father. "Well, I'm afraid things like this are going to happen. Teammates go AWOL, machinery gets broken or damaged, there's drama and disagreements from time to time; it's all inevitable, especially with a ship like this and everybody living together. Tends to get a bit claustrophobic at times. Sit up, will you? I can barely see you down there."

Aerrow obediently sat.

"You have to remember," Lightning Strike continued, "that in spite of all that, these people are your family. They love you and you love them in return. And I can promise you, Aerrow Redjay Strike, that no matter what happens, nothing you go through an ever completely crush you. You'll always be able to find a way back up. Are you listening to me?"

Before nodding, Aerrow hesitated.

"My middle name's Redjay?" he asked.

"Blame your mother," replied Lightning Strike. "She never was very imaginative. I guess that's why she was so good at picking up on reality. Neither of us could ever lie to her, she was too good."

This time Aerrow's smile lasted longer.

"Everything will turn out alright," said the man. "And if it doesn't, then you go talk to someone and together you can find a way to make sure it does."

There was kindness in his eyes, which in this light appeared a steely grey. For the first time in what could have been forever, Aerrow felt a little better about himself.

"You're a Sky Knight," said Lightning Strike, "and from what I've heard you're doing a damn good job of it, but like it or not, you're still only fifteen. Yes, you're nearly sixteen, but you shouldn't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, especially not at your age."

He ruffled Aerrow's already perpetually messy hair.

Unfortunately a rumble of thunder penetrated the ship's steel walls, causing Aerrow to instinctively hug his father for protection.

Once he realised what was happening, Lightning Strike placed the headphones back over his son's ears and pressed the play button.

"_Twelve hours is a long night…"_

* * *

When Aerrow woke up, Lightning Strike was gone. He was still wearing the headphones, but the battery on the player seemed to have run out. On top of that, somebody – most likely his father – had tucked him into bed.

Or had he tucked himself in and just dreamed about his father visiting?

Still lying there, he pulled off the headphones and opened the back of the player, and was met with the sight of a dull, powerless crystal.

He'd have to apologise to Finn.

He thought back to his father. What he had said about keeping hope and having faith and all that. He'd definitely had a point about one thing: despite all of his ambitions and skills, he was still only a teenager and had to remember that. He couldn't carry too many burdens at once.

But he wasn't a child anymore.

He hadn't been a child for what felt like a long, long time.

Perhaps Lightning Strike understood that, but he couldn't be certain. Perhaps he hadn't realised that Aerrow wasn't the four-year-old he'd lost, or perhaps Aerrow was just being unfair to the man and losing himself to bitterness again.

The thought of losing himself in general was depressing.

He sighed and rubbed the dust out of his eyes. Maybe that had been a dream after all.

Only then did he realise he was alone. Radarr wasn't on the bed with him like he usually was.

Aerrow sat up and looked around the room. He was the only one in it.

He set aside the book that had still been on his pillow and climbed out of bed, pulled on his red coat and walked into the corridor. He could hear some kind of commotion coming from the direction of the bridge, so he turned that way and headed closer.

Before he reached the door, he heard talking coming from the other side of it.

"…still just getting static," said Piper. "Hold it a little higher, Radarr!"

"What if I pick him up?" asked Junko.

"You could give it a shot," Piper replied. "I just know I heard _something!_"

"We could always try, you know, taking off," Stork said flatly. "If height's the issue-"

"No, Stork," Piper said sternly. "What if Finn really is down there and he thinks we're abandoning him? Besides, I think we should wait for Aerrow to wake up before we consider that."

Aerrow took that as his cue, and the door automatically opened for him as he stepped forward.

"No need," he said, "I'm already awake."

They were gathered around the table, obsessing over the radio. Junko was kneeling on the tabletop behind it, holding Radarr above his head, and Radarr was holding the aerial. Stork was holding a toolbox and Piper was fiddling with the dials, but the only noise the radio made was static.

"What's going on?" asked the Sky Knight. "Is someone trying to contact us?"

"We think so," said Junko as he rested Radarr on top of his head. "It started buzzing a few minutes ago, but we lost the signal."

"It might be clearer if we could gain a little height," said Piper, "but we weren't sure if you'd be okay with-"

"Do it."

She paused and turned to look up at him, probably alarmed by his tone.

"That's not to say I'm giving up," said Aerrow, "but face it: Finn's not the type to spend two nights sleeping on the streets, is he? If he's not come back by now, odds are he either left us for good (which he _wouldn't_) or he's somehow left the terra. Whatever it is, we can always come back down and continue our search if the only reason we're taking off is to get a better radio signal."

He nodded at Stork.

"Take us up," he ordered.

"Aye-aye, sir," said Stork, and he saluted before stalking over to the helm.

"You seem better put together than you were yesterday," Piper commented as Aerrow approached. "Guess that music did you good, huh?"

"Seems that way," said Aerrow, "but that wasn't the only thing."

"What happened?" asked Junko. "Did you manage to block your ears?"

"No," Aerrow said, and tried to rub some coherency into his head. "I think… I think Dad came to see me."

"Lightning Strike?!" Piper exclaimed while Junko and Radarr gasped in alarm. "Here on the Condor? No way, we'd know about it! We'd hear or see him if-"

"He said he knew secret ways on," Aerrow explained, "and that kinda makes sense, since he lived on this ship way longer than any of us have. He came in and gave me a bit of a pep-talk, told me I shouldn't have to carry too many burdens when I'm still just a kid. I think he left after I fell asleep."

"Are you sure it wasn't a dream?" asked Junko.

"I wanna say it wasn't," said Aerrow, "but I'm not sure."

Before he could say any more, the engines whirred into life and the floor began to vibrate.

"Okay, we're taking off," said Stork. "Please ensure all electronic devices are switched off and keep your seatbelt fastened until advised otherwise."

"_Ha_," Piper said flatly as the boys sniggered.

Smooth as silk, the Condor gained altitude, and the static on the radio started fluctuating in volume.

"A little higher!" Piper commanded. "I think we're getting something!"

Sure enough, somebody on the other end of the line was speaking, albeit faintly and with a rather bad signal.

"Ugh, interference," Piper growled. "Radarr, move it a little to the left!"

Radarr obediently held the aerial more to his side.

"Up a little more- Stork, stop ascending!"

Stork pulled a lever and the Condor halted in mid-air.

"More to the left," Piper said, "and… there! Hold it!"

The radio became silent. Radarr tightened his grip to hold the aerial steady.

"This is the frequency it was on," she reported. "but it doesn't sound like… hang on…"

Aerrow leaned in closer to hear it better.

"Hello?" Piper said. "This is the Storm Hawks. Who's calling?"

The silence from the other end continued.

"Is this a distress call?" Piper asked. "Please let us know your co-ordinates and we'll reach you as quickly as possible!"

There was a quiet crackle.

"Help me…" said a weak voice.

"That sounds like Finn!" Junko exclaimed.

"Finn, is that you?!" asked the suddenly-panicked Piper.

"Can you hear us?" cried Aerrow as Stork hurried over. "Finn, are you still there?!"

"Help," repeated the person on the other end, who sounded as though they were about to start crying. "Oh god… help me… _please_..."

"Finn, tell us where you are!" said Piper. "Tell us where you are and we'll come and get you!"

From the other end, there was nothing but heavy breathing, which suddenly grew fainter as if the receiver was being moved away.

"You want him?" said a second, far more sinister-sounding voice. "Be at Amazonia's west side by noon if you wanna get him."

The line went dead.

The Storm Hawks stared at the radio in alarm.

"I was right, wasn't I?" asked Junko. "Finn _was _kidnapped."

"We don't know that for…" Piper trailed off. "Oh, who am I kidding? It's so obvious he's being held against his will. He sounded terrified!"

"What time is it and what time will it be when we get there if we set off for Amazonia right now?" Aerrow asked.

"It's half-past eight," said Stork, "so if we set off right now at average cruising speed, it'll take us about a third of a day to get there. Don't bother getting your hopes up because we'd arrive around four in the afternoon."

"That's too long!" Junko jumped down off the table. "That's WAY too late! We have to get there quick! We have to save Finn! We _have _to!"

"Junko, calm down!" Piper cried. "Panicking isn't going to get us anywhere. We need to _think _about this."

"He's right though," said Aerrow. "We need to get there fast. But Piper, you're right to: we can't lose our heads. So listen up, all of you. This is what we're gonna do."

All attention turned to him.

"Junko, go fit the engines with as many crystals as it'll take to boost our speed to the max. Piper, plot us the quickest possible route to Amazonia. If you see a shortcut, I don't care what it goes through; we'll take it. Stork, get us to an altitude that won't send us crashing into any buildings or terras on the way and monitor the systems. Don't let us break apart or blow up. Radarr, you're with Junko. If the engines start overheating once we set off, do everything you can to cool them. And everybody, brace yourselves. Find something to hold onto and hold on as tight as you can."

He clenched his fists on the table.

"It's time for another thunder run."

* * *

The Merb hanged the receiver on the side of the radio and straightened up. Finn watched as he turned and stalked towards the door.

"What're you gonna do?" he asked.

The Merb froze.

"Why Amazonia?" demanded Finn, trying and failing to sound fierce. "Is that where we are? Or are we somewhere else?"

There was no reply.

"It's a trap, isn't it?" Finn realised. "You _are _working for Cyclonia, aren't you? And you're using me as bait! That's what this is all-"

He was cut off when a thick knot of fabric was thrust into his mouth. How was it possible for a single person to move so quickly?!

"It shouldn't matter to you," the kidnapper snarled. "It's not like you're ever gonna see them again. It's stupid to get scared for people you're never gonna see again. It's stupid. It's stupid. It's _stupid_."

Finn forced himself to look at the young man's face and not freak out about the fingers that were still in his mouth. He tried to keep his mind off the fact that they tasted utterly foul.

He sat there, paralysed in terror with his hands feeling numb above his head, as his captor tied a length of fabric in a knot at the back of his head. Once that was done, the Merb grabbed him by the jaw again.

"You're going to stay right here," he whispered hoarsely, "and from now on, you're not gonna say a word. I'll be back to deal with you when all this is over, and after that, you wouldn't be able to scream even if you wanted to. Got it?"

Finn nodded frantically.

He was released and then left alone again, with nothing but an ache in his jaw lingering from the strong fingers and the darkness of his prison.

Unable to speak, he mentally cursed himself. He should've tried to tell the rest of the squad what was going on. He should've told them that he was locked up, being held prisoner by a Merb, unable to escape by any means at all, that he had been…

…_hurt…_

…and, above all else, that he was sorry and wanted to go home.

He hadn't meant for this to happen when he had walked out that day. He realised now that he was just being hot-headed and needed some time to cool off. It had happened before, right? Just take a walk, maybe listen to some music when he got back and he would be fine. He could enjoy the week without Ed. He could savour the seven asshole-free days while they lasted. It would be fun to help Aerrow study again; it had been ages since they'd done that.

But now he was going to die.

He was cold. There were goosebumps all over his body and he had to force himself not to shiver. He was weak from lack of food and dehydrated since he had been crying so much lately, and he was pretty sure there wasn't any blood left in his arms since they had been above his head for so long. At this point, death would be welcome.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he shouldn't be thinking like this. He should've been trying to remind himself who and what he was. He was a Storm Hawk and he was proud of it, and he was going to be for the rest of his life.

But who was he kidding?

They would never want him back now. Not in this sorry state.

He couldn't even speak anymore.

He probably never would again.

Finn swallowed what little saliva remained in his mouth. It was time to face the facts:

He was scared.

He was _so _scared.

* * *

"Piper!" Aerrow shouted over the roaring of the engines. "Are we almost there?!"

"Just wait a little longer!" Piper replied. "We don't have far to go!"

"How're we doing, Stork?!" Aerrow asked.

"She's doing fine!" Stork responded. "She can hold this speed for at least another hour, but any faster and we might start breaking up!"

"Understood," said Aerrow.

He leapt up and dashed through the ship's corridors, making a beeline for the engine room. When he got there he skidded the last few inches on his feet and came to a halt in the doorway.

"How're we doing?!" he asked.

"I dunno how much longer we can keep this up!" shouted Junko, and he wiped a thick sheen of sweat from his forehead. "We're starting to overheat! If we go for much longer or pick up any more speed, we could be facing a meltdown!"

Aerrow somehow avoided jumping in shock as Radarr sped in from between his legs and held up a fan and a glowing blue crystal. After switching the fan on, he held the crystal between it and the engines, and the growing red in the engine's crystals started dying down.

"Piper says we don't have far to go," Aerrow told them both, "so just keep us stable until we arrive!"

"Got it!" Junko said, with Radarr giving an appropriate squawk as they both saluted.

With that done, Aerrow turned and ran again, hurrying down the corridors that would lead him back to the bridge.

Noon, that person had said. Be at Terra Amazonia at noon. Aerrow didn't know what time it was, but considering how long they had been flying already, it was probably getting rather close to midday. He didn't want to consider what might happen if they were even a fraction of a minute late. He'd been reading for most of the journey – studying as he had been assigned to do during Ed's absence – but now the time was wearing on him and he was becoming worried.

'Don't worry, Finn,' he said inside his head. 'We're coming to get you. Just hold on. We're _coming_.'

He burst onto the bridge and caught himself on the table, where Piper was still standing over the map.

"Okay, Stork," she said, "apply the brakes… NOW!"

Stork wrenched on a lever and the Condor instantly dropped in speed, and it took around fifteen seconds for the ship to come to a complete halt.

"What time is it?" asked Aerrow, who felt out of breath from all the running.

"If my calculations are correct," said Piper, "and they usually are, it should be approximately five minutes to noon."

"11:57, to be precise," said Stork, "and we've arrived."

He gestured to the windscreen, and Piper and Aerrow came over to get a better look at the lush green jungle that was spread out beneath them.

"I don't even know how many times we've been here," Piper said, "and it's still beautiful."

"And huge," Stork added. "And full of deadly, horrific creatures that would kill you in the same second they saw you. Often in a variety of gruesome, painful and extremely messy ways."

"Life of the party, as always," Piper commented with a roll of her eyes.

"The little sub-terra that I stayed on should be somewhere over there," said Aerrow, and he pointed over to the side of the terra. "I wonder how those dragon cat kittens are doing?"

"Probably hunting for themselves by now," Piper informed him as the door opened and closed again behind them, heralding the arrival of the other two. "Those things tend to grow up pretty fast."

"So we're here?" asked Junko. "We made it in time?"

"Yes," said Aerrow, "we made it. Good job, everybody-"

He was cut off when an explosion rocked the ship to one side, throwing all but one of them to the floor as Stork used all of his strength to stabilise her.

"What was that?!" he demanded.

Piper leapt over to the periscope and yanked it down. It wasn't long before she found what she was looking for; the fact that they were aiming their staves in her direction certainly helped.

"I'll give you three guesses," she said, "and the first two don't count!"

"Cyclonians." Aerrow spat the word as though it were the dirtiest curse. "Didn't even stop to think this might be a trap, did we?"

"That's what desperation does to you," said Stork. "Just start expecting bad things to happen and your life will get a whole lot easier."

"But that mind-set is insane!" cried Piper as Aerrow sprang up to the periscope.

"It gets me out of bed in the morning, so it can't be that crazy!" Stork argued back.

Aerrow's grip on the periscope's handles tightened until his knuckles were white and the handle on the left started to buckle under his steel grip.

"The whole terra's swarming with them," he said bitterly. "I never even stopped for a moment to think if this could be a trap. How stupid can I get?"

"None of us considered it," Junko pointed out. "We were just so desperate to find Finn. What're we gonna do now? Are we gonna fight?"

Aerrow looked around at them all. Every single one of them was looking at him, waiting for his command. Despite his weaknesses and failures, they still considered him their leader.

And he couldn't afford to disappoint them.

"Yes," he said. "Suit up and prepare to move out. We're gonna show these bastards that even with one of us missing, we're still more than capable of kicking their asses into the dirt. Alright? Alright. Let's go!"

* * *

After making sure the craft was safely hidden, he settled down on a log and focused his binoculars on the hovering ship. A smile spread across his scarred face as two skimmers and a heliscooter descended from the carrier.

"Looks like things are getting interesting," he commented. "Pity they don't stand a chance!"


	7. Chapter 7

'Dammit,' thought Aerrow. 'We could really use Finn's sniping skills right now.'

He had abandoned his skimmer almost as soon as he had landed, since this part of the jungle had trees that were so tightly packed that it was next to impossible to manoeuvre the vehicle. That was probably the intention, as now he felt like a sitting duck, even with his armour and his trusty energy blades at hand and the canopy towering over his head. He hoped to get this over with quickly before he fell victim to claustrophobia.

A rustling behind him alerted a hostile presence and he looked around just in time for a Talon to fire a bolt at him from his staff. Aerrow deflected it and fired a shot from his own blade, knocking his attacker to the ground, and had to duck as another bolt seared past his head.

"Really getting tired of this," he sighed as he fired over his shoulder and took the Talon out.

Once that was done, he picked up a thick stick and started carving into the soft ground under his feet.

'It has to be perfectly rounded,' he remembered as he dug, 'because otherwise the power wouldn't be able to circulate properly. Need the structural matrix or else it won't work how I want it to. What's the symbol for earth again?'

He finished the drawing as quickly as possible and quickly climbed up into the branches of a nearby tree.

"Oh no!" he shouted. "My striker crystals are out of charge! How am I supposed to fight now?"

"Did you hear that?" said a voice somewhere further into the forest.

"He's out of charge!" said another.

"Let's go get him!" cried a third.

Aerrow couldn't avoid smiling at the sound of their approaching crunches of footsteps. Cyclonia really needed to step up its game in intelligent soldiers. Maybe they could learn a thing or two from the Amestrian military.

Three Talons ran into view, looking around for the Sky Knight, and stepped right into the middle of the circle he'd drawn.

"Where'd he go?" asked one. "That definitely came from over here!"

Aerrow jumped down from the tree and slammed his hand onto the edge of the circle, and the soldiers didn't notice him until it had already started glowing electric blue. Pillars of earth shot up from around the edge of the circle and closed over their heads, trapping them in a conical cage of solid soil.

"You're right," said the redhead, "it did come from over here."

He walked up to the cage and grabbed one of the soldier's collars.

"Where is Finn?" he demanded. "Where are you keeping him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, I swear!" cried the Talon. "We were just ordered to wait for the Storm Hawks to arrive and then attack!"

"Then who the hell was it that sent that message?" Aerrow asked angrily. "Whose orders did you come here on? Who told you we were going to be here?"

Before he got an answer he was blown back by an explosion that knocked him into a tree and he fell, winded, to the ground. When he opened his eyes he saw the trio approaching him, brandishing their staves.

"Master Cyclonis wants all of you dead," one of them snarled, "and she's going to give a promotion to whoever brings in your head!"

Aerrow wanted to get up. He wanted to strike them down with his energy blades and then move on to take out even more of them.

But he couldn't move. His body was paralysed.

He couldn't escape the thought of how familiar this all felt. The thought that he was in a confined area, towering walls on all sides blocking out the light, with a group of people he had never met or seen before in his life bearing down on him with every intention to do him harm.

He still felt winded. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't breathe. His throat and chest were hurting and he felt like he was choking. Dizziness clouded his mind and black spots were appearing in his vision and-

-he blinked.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Piper hit one of the Talons upside the jaw and across the head and he collapsed to join the other two, who lay unconscious on the ground.

"Aerrow!" She ran over the moment she realised he was there. "Are you okay? Can you hear me? Focus on your breathing, okay?"

Aerrow obediently forced himself to take a deep breath and almost immediately felt less dizzy.

"What…" he gasped.

"You had another panic attack, didn't you?" asked Piper. "And you must've blacked out. They were about to cut your head off!"

"Yeah," Aerrow panted, and struggled to smile. "Talk about bad timing, huh?"

"How can you joke about something like this?" Piper asked him. "We have to defeat these guys and find Finn!"

"They don't have Finn," Aerrow told her as she helped him to his feet. "I managed to trap and interrogate them before they broke free and I… panicked. He said they were just ordered to wait for us and attack when we arrived. He didn't even know what I was talking about when I asked where Finn was."

"He could've been lying," Piper pointed out.

"He could've not," added Aerrow. "Where are Radarr and Junko? And we have to make sure Stork knows too."

"Junko is…"

There was a furious roar and a tremendous cracking noise from somewhere not too far away, followed by the near-deafening crash of a falling tree.

"…going kinda nuts," Piper finished.

Aerrow rubbed the back of his head. It still felt sore from where he'd hit the tree.

"Thanks for saving me," he said. "I owe you one."

"Don't worry about it," Piper said casually. "We'd better go stop Junko before he destroys this whole terra."

* * *

He focused his binoculars and watched as another tree toppled, sending a huge flock of birds fleeing into the air.

"Wow," he muttered. "They're really tearing the place up!"

A wide grin split his face as a bright explosion of green light burst out of the new clearing, and he turned his attention to the ship that hovered overhead, which buzzed every now and then as a near-ineffectual bolt of energy sizzled against its immense metal body.

"Idiots," he muttered. "That's the Condor. You'll never take it down just by shooting at it!"

He looked back at the far-away canopy, where the bursts of light were growing in frequency.

"Just like I thought!" he squeaked excitedly. "They don't stand a chance!"

* * *

"_WHERE IS FINN?!_" Junko screamed as loud as his lungs would allow him. "_**WHERE IS HE?!**_"

Talons fled in terror as he punched yet another tree in their direction. Dragon cats leapt away, yowling in fright as the enraged Wallop stampeded through the forest, throwing his fists at anything moving and humanoid that held a glowing red staff.

"_TELL ME WHERE HE IS __**NOW!**_"

"Let's get out of here!" one of the soldiers yelled, and the entire platoon began high-tailing it in the opposite direction.

"_NO YOU DON'T!_" Junko bellowed as he punched the ground under their feet hard enough to crack it. "_NOT UNTIL YOU TELL ME WHAT YOU DID TO FINN!_"

They screamed and ran.

"_HEY!_" Junko shouted as he gave chase. "_DON'T YOU RUN AWAY! __**GET BACK HERE!**_"

"Junko, stop!" He froze as two slim arms latched around his shoulders and a semi-heavy weight suddenly made itself present on his back.

"Piper, get off me!" he yelled. "I have to go after them! I HAVE TO FIND FINN!"

"They don't have Finn!" cried Piper, clinging on for dear life as the Wallop swung around and around in an attempt to shake her off. "They don't even know where he is! Now stop before you kill somebody!"

Junko froze, his quivering fist a mere inch from the surface of another tree. Had he continued on with the strike, it would have been devastatingly felled.

"No way," he muttered. "But… that message… we came here so fast… I really thought we would…"

A gentle hand was rested on his arm and pressed it down, away from the tree. Junko looked over and saw it was Aerrow, whose face was solemn and somewhere between frustration and sadness.

"I know you're angry and disappointed," he said. "We all are. But levelling this terra isn't going to help us find Finn. Right now, all we can do is chase out these Talons The longer they stay here, the more damage is going to be done to this place. We can worry about Finn, just not right now."

Junko lowered his hands, deactivating his knuckle-busters, and Piper slid down off his back.

"I'm sorry," he said. "They just started coming at me and I lost it. I figured they were searching for our rides so I wanted to fight them off, but then I remembered that call and how scared Finn sounded and…"

"We're _not_ giving up," Piper told him. "Wherever Finn is, we'll find him and we'll get him back."

In spite of the tears brimming in his eyes, Junko ,managed a small smile.

-_bwfzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz_-

At the sudden sound of buzzing, Aerrow hurried over to a nearby pile of leaves and pulled them aside to uncover his ride. He activated the radio.

"Is that you, Stork?" he said. "Is something wrong?"

"There's a 90% chance of that being so pretty much all the time," Stork responded, "or maybe 95%. In any case, I'm looking at Radarr right now and I really think he could use your help!"

"Radarr?" Aerrow said in surprise.

"He ran away not long after we landed," Junko explained. "I don't know where he went, but-"

"He's up on one of the mountains," Stork interrupted. "I'm bringing the Condor down so I can lend a hand. Didn't you guys realise you were being watched?"

"We were a little too focused on fighting off an ambush!" Piper pointed out.

"Ugh, never mind," Stork sighed. "Whatever, just- He's up on the side of that mountain to your east, so one of you go up there and help me stop our mission specialist from being turned into a spit-roast!"

The radio went silent.

The three teens looked up at the mountain. From this distance, nobody could see what was happening, but all of them were worried.

"Will you two be able to handle the rest of those Talons?" asked Aerrow.

"Yeah," said Piper.

"So long as I don't go knocking down any more trees, we should be fine," said Junko.

"Then I'm leaving it to you," Aerrow said, and he mounted his ride. "We're already down one member and I'm not about to let us lose another."

After making sure his coat was still tucked into the sidecar where he'd left it, he revved his engine and sped away, kicking up sticks and torn-up leaves in his wake.

"You think you'll be okay?" Piper asked Junko.

"I'll be fine," Junko said, "so long as we can get this over with quickly."

"I heard them over this way!"

"Get 'em! Don't hold back just 'coz they're kids!"

Piper extended her staff and Junko smashed his knuckle-busters together.

"Looks like we might not have a choice," Piper commented.

* * *

Flashes of red, green and blue lit up the clearing and were bright and visible from his vantage point. He would've been able to see it even without his binoculars, but kept them all the same so that he could see it all better.

"Destroyed," he whispered gleefully. "You'll all be destroyed!"

The faint grumbling of an engine caught his attention and he turned further down, and between the branches he caught glimpses of a redhead with a shining metal arm riding a skimmer through the trees. He was headed in the Merb's direction and closing _very _fast.

"What are youdoing?" he muttered.

Then everything went black.

Confused, he leaned away from his binoculars to see what had covered them.

A blue creature in a strange navy-coloured outfit grinned at him. A quick glance at its metal badge revealed that it was a member of the Storm Hawks.

"_Shit_," he growled, and stood up and pulled out his knife.

The blue thing screeched in shock and leapt onto his face. He stumbled back, trying to pull it off, crashed into several trees and almost lost his footing.

"Get off me!" he snarled. "Get OFF!"

He would have stabbed it to death, but doing so would have driven the weapon straight through the creature's skinny body and into his face, so instead he clawed at the tight paws with his nail-bitten fingers.

"Will you get OFF ME?!"

A sudden hard _thwack _in his back sent him spinning and he felt himself collide with a tree. The blue creature jumped away and scurried into the trees, so he turned to see who had assaulted him.

"I don't know who you are," they said, their voice muffled by a heavy metal mask as they tightened their grip on a broom, "and I don't know what you want, but Radarr's a pretty good judge of character. If he's attacking you, that means you're someone who needs attacking!"

They brought the broom down on him and he only just raised his knife in time to block the blow, and even then his hand was pushed down far enough for the new attacker to thrust the handle forwards, stabbing him in the chest It didn't penetrate his body, but it left him quite winded, and the broom-wielder rose the tool again and struck him around the head with the business end.

"You're with the Cyclonians, aren't you?" they demanded. "Tell me where Finn is! NOW!"

"You can't help him now," he said with a giggle. "It's too late!"

The attacker froze in horror, so he took the opportunity to strike, aiming for the eyes.

The blade bounced uselessly off glass.

"Nice try," they muttered sinisterly.

They jabbed him again with the broom handle and he stumbled back, clutching his sore chest, He was unable to resist as the bristles were pushed in his face over and over again, forcing him backwards His back toe stubbed on a rock and he withdrew it in shock and pain, and the loss of balance was enough for him to fall down the slope, rolling and crashing through the undergrowth and hitting trees and bushes and several slow-to-react pugrabbits.

When he finally came to a halt, he was sore and bruised all over. There were twigs in his hood and his face was scratched and bleeding, like it wasn't scarred already.

"Crud," he mattered. "This is bad. I need to get back to my ship!"

He struggled to his feet and started running, and soon caught sight of the arrangement of branches and leaves that he'd used to hide his ship on the far side of a dry, dusty clearing.

But as he was halfway across, he froze.

The blue creature was back. It sat and grinned evilly at him and pointed at something behind him.

As he looked back, the ground around him began to crackle with apparent electricity, and he saw the redhead from earlier crouching beside a circle design.

A circle design that the Merb happened to be standing in the centre of.

"Stay still if you don't wanna get impaled," said the redhead.

Pillars of the hard earth shot up from around the edge of the circle and met above his head, forming a cone-shaped cage around him.

He gritted his teeth in rage.

He was trapped.

* * *

Aerrow lowered his hands as the transmutation finished. With the ground in this area being more exposed to the sun, it was drier and harder and wouldn't be nearly so easy for this guy, whoever he was, to break out as it had been for those Talons.

"Now then," he said calmly as Radarr climbed onto his shoulder, "you wanna tell us why you were watching us?"

The Merb's reply came in the form of him thrusting his arm, holding a knife, through th bars of his cage. Radarr flinched and almost jumped back but Aerrow stayed calm, knowing that the blade would never get within more than two inches of his face.

He grabbed the wrist and held it behind him as he leaned in, and seized the watcher's other skinny wrist in his flesh hand.

"You're with Cyclonia, right?" he asked. "You were watching to make sure we all got wiped out, weren't you?"

The prisoner just growled through gritted teeth.

"Where's Finn?" asked Aerrow. "What did you people do to him? The Storm Hawk with the spiky blond hair and blue eyes; where is he?"

The growl somehow became a worrying-sounding cackle.

"Blue!" the Merb laughed. "So blue! So brilliant! So beautiful!"

"So you _do _know him," Aerrow muttered, mostly to himself.

"But yours might actually be prettier," the prisoner said happily. "I don't think I've ever seen a more perfect shade of green. They're like emeralds- no, like the jungle! Your eyes are a jungle! And they're so wild and fierce and-"

Aerrow tightened his grip on the Merb's right wrist, his metal fingers digging into the soft grey-green flesh.

"Where. Is. Finn?" he asked again.

The Merb shook with silent laughter.

"He fell," he said. "Right out my ship. Tried to make a run for it but forgot the parachute and he fell all the way down to the Wastelands!"

Aerrow felt a wave of horror wash over his whole body, and his mind almost completely blanked.

"No," he said. "That's not true. You're lying!"

"Nope!" the Merb said cheerfully. "Such a pity. He had lovely eyes."

"TELL ME THE TRUTH!" Aerrow shouted as his temper slipped from his grasp and his grip tightened even further. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO FINN?!"

"…such a loud scream," the prisoner continued regardless. "Never would've thought he'd scream so loud…"

Aerrow threw him back in disgust and he thudded to the ground, wrists quickly purpling.

"It's not true." The Sky Knight clenched his fists in rage. "You're lying to me. Finn's not dead. It's not true. You're _lying_."

The prisoner remained curled up on the floor of his conical cage, shaking as he silently laughed.

Aerrow turned to Radarr.

"It's not true," he repeated again, voice weakening by the second. "It's not, is it?"

Radarr could only shrug in response.

"It's not true," Aerrow muttered, and he fell to his knees. "It's not. It's not true. It's _not true._"

He heard footsteps approaching behind him and turned, drawing his blades, to attack.

Stork jumped back in fright, holding his broom up in defence.

"Don't attack me, okay?" he shouted. "I've already spent way too long out here as it is! You make sure that guy doesn't come anywhere near me!"

He lifted up his mask.

"Did you find Finn yet?" he asked.

Aerrow didn't respond. The horror had given way to comfortable numbness.

"What's wrong?" asked the pilot. "You caught the guy, right? Has he said where Finn is?"

The Sky Knight clenched his fists.

"Dead," he said. "He says Finn's dead."

"What?!" Stork threw aside his mask and broom and ran over to the makeshift cage. "Hey! You with the hood! What's really happened to Finn? I know he can be a pain in the butt at times, but that's no reason to kill him!"

The prisoner looked up at him and his yellow eyes suddenly filled with rage.

"_You_," he growled.

Stork jumped back from the bars as a pair of skinny arms poked through and tried to grab at him, waving desperately in the air as their owner snarled and screamed in rage.

"What the hell?" Aerrow leaned away from the bizarre spectacle. "Stork, do you know this guy?"

"No!" Stork replied. "At least, I don't think so. It's kinda hard to tell with the hood and everything!"

Radarr jumped up onto the cage and hissed harshly in the prisoner's face, and the caged Merb jumped back in shock.

"He must be lying," Aerrow said. "Finn's not dead. He can't be dead."

"This is Finn we're talking about," Stork pointed out. "He's never exactly been very cautious, has he?"

Aerrow didn't reply.

"Radarr," Stork said, "you're not seriously believing this, are you?"

Radarr shrugged, but he still looked worried.

From the jungle nearby, there came the sounds of crashing and breaking twigs, and Stork and Aerrow immediately readied their weapons (while Radarr just readied his fists).

Luckily, for all of them, it was just the now-rather-worn-out Junko and Piper. Junko fell to his knees, trying his hardest to catch his breath, and Piper leaned against Aerrow's skimmer, which was parked under a nearby tree.

"I hope… I never see… another Talon… as long as I live!" she huffed.

"Are you guys okay?" Aerrow asked as he approached them.

"We fought 'em all off," Junko panted. "Wasn't easy… wanted to see you guys… were okay…"

"We're fine, surprisingly enough," said Stork. "I wouldn't breathe so deep if I were you, 'coz there's a pretty good chance you'll inhale a bug."

Piper shot him a quick glare of contempt.

"I see you caught the peeping tom," she said, noticing the rock cage. "Did you manage to find anything out from him?"

"Yeah," Aerrow said, hoping this would suffice. "Some things."

"Can they wait?" asked Junko as he stood up. "As we were heading here, we saw a ship parked behind the tree line. It's got leaves and branches draped over it. Whoever was trying to hide it was probably in a hurry."

"What do you wanna bet it's _his_?" asked Stork, indicating the cage.

"In any case, it looks like the fight's over for now," Aerrow said, and he pulled his coat from the sidecar. "Stork, you keep an eye on our prisoner. Make sure he doesn't try anything. We're gonna check out this ship and see if there's anything worth salvaging."

"It's back this way," Piper said, pointing with her thumb. "It looks pretty beat up. I'm not too sure if there'll be anything valuable."

"Did that guy say anything about Finn?" asked Junko.

Aerrow noticed the ship now, as he'd missed it the first time he passed due to his hurry to reach the clearing. It did look old and battered. Some kind of fishing trawler, maybe?

"Later," he said. "I'll tell you later. Let's deal with this thing first."

* * *

Something, somewhere in the ship, was dripping. The sound echoed to Finn's ears and made him wish he could slap his hands over his head and shut the world out forever.

The only sound he could hear, aside from the dripping, was his stomach grumbling. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so hungry.

At least it probably wouldn't be long now. He would probably suffocate long before he starved or dehydrated.

He realised he couldn't hear the engines anymore. He hadn't heard them for a while now. Did that mean they'd landed? If so, where? Terra Amazonia? Stuck in here, it was impossible to tell.

From somewhere behind him, there came a sudden rustling noise. He flinched, but relaxed when he realised that it was outside. The walls here seemed to be quite thin. If only his legs were longer, he could kick at the metal plating and let whoever was out there know he was trapped.

Then there was talking. Too muffled for the voices to be recognisable.

'Dammit,' Finn swore in his mind. 'Please… _anything_…'

_squEEEF_

He froze.

His arm had hit several pipes when he had first been thrown in here, and now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he could see that they ran all along the wall and across the floor. There was one – a single, rather thick-looking one – in kicking distance.

And that psycho… he'd said the banging was loud enough to be heard outside…

He'd better not have been exaggerating.

With no other options left, Finn hit the pipe with as hard a kick as he could manage.

* * *

Aerrow froze.

"Did you guys hear something?" he asked. "Sorta like a bang?"

"I think so," Piper said. "You don't think there's still some Cyclonians out there that we missed, do you?"

"No," Aerrow said, "it sounded more like it came from inside the ship."

Before the conversation could continue, there was a more obvious bang as Junko, in his own special way, opened the door.

"I got it!" he reported, and rested the door against the side of the ship. "Don't think I'll be able to fix it though."

"Don't worry about it," Aerrow said as they entered. "Looks like this thing was destined for the scrapheap anyhow."

"Ugh, it smells it too!" Piper scowled and pinched her nose. "How old _is _this thing?"

"Well," said Junko, "judging by how the controls are rusted, how easily the door came off its hinges and all the gross dirt on the windscreen, I'd say this ship is… _really _old."

Aerrow almost smiled at how cheerful he sounded about that announcement.

"This must be an old fishing trawler," Piper realised as she examined the dashboard. "Years ago, probably before any of us were born, people from all over Atmos would go fishing for sky krill. They talked it up as some kind of delicacy. Of course, it all came to an end not long after the scheme was dreamed up because people realised that (to humans at least) sky krill is super gross."

"This is where Finn would make a comment about leaving a bad taste in your mouth," Junko said sadly.

His ears twitched.

"Did you guys hear that?" he asked.

"Yeah, I heard it," Aerrow said. "It's definitely coming from-"

"Guys, shush!" Piper held up a finger for silence.

They stood and waited, listening to the empty ship.

And there it was.

The unmistakeable echo of a bang, like something or someone hitting a pipe.

"That can't just be the ship making that noise," said Piper. "Someone else is in here."

"Could it be Finn?" asked Junko.

Before anybody else could speak, there was a yell from some distance away which sounded suspiciously like Stork.

"Go check that out," Aerrow commanded. "Piper, wait up!"

As Junko hurried out of the ship, the Sky Knight ran after the crystal mage as she sprinted through a door and down a half-rotted corridor that smelled even worse that the bridge. The door at the end opened as she reached it and she loaded another crystal into her staff to provide light.

"Finn?" she called. "Finn, is that you?"

Another bang.

As Aerrow reached the doorway at the end of the corridor, noticing that it opened to the engine room rather than some sort of cargo bay, he saw Piper reached another door, this one presumably leading to a closet.

It opened, and Piper froze in shock.

"Oh my gosh," she gasped. "Aerrow, he's here!"

She ran into the closet. Tentative, Aerrow slowly moved closer.

"It's gonna be okay," he heard her say. "No-one's gonna hurt you anymore. Finn, can you hear me? Look at me!"

Aerrow stopped walking.

Something had happened. Something awful.

"Oh my god," he heard Piper say. "What have they done to you?"

There was no reply. Aerrow realised he was sweating, but he didn't bother to wipe it away. He didn't even dare to draw breath for fear that it might worsen the situation.

"Finn, it's okay," Piper said, and there was a sound akin to metal being broken. "Whoever did this to you can't hurt you anymore. We won't let them. Can you stand? Here, let me help you."

"Thank you," said the weak but unmistakeable voice of Finn, followed by a shuffling noise as he found his feet.

Now Aerrow was on the edge of panic. He'd just heard Finn express gratitude without any prompting whatsoever – an event which was right up there with alien invasion and Stork's hair spontaneously turning pink in terms of frequency. Something was very, very wrong.

"You can lean on me if you have to," Piper said. "Come on; let's get you out of here."

Part of the Sky Knight wanted to turn and run, but the rest of him remained rooted to the spot. He could only stand there staring at the doorway, hoping against hope that everything would be okay and Finn was just in shock from being kidnapped.

But all of that hope drained away when the two teens stepped into view, one being supported on the shoulders of the other.

Finn was… there didn't seem to be words suitable to describe his state. His right sleeve had been torn clean off and his bare arm was black and blue with bruises, aside from around the wrist where it was red raw from days of restraint, but it paled in comparison to his face.

Two large, ugly gashes reached outward from his right eye, cutting his eyebrow in two and splitting his cheek down the middle. Where the eye should have been there was only a closed eyelid, sealed shut by dried blood that covered almost half of his face and had trickled all the way down to his neck where it had dried on his shirt. His other eye was bloodshot and puffy, betraying the obvious fact that he had been crying.

Aerrow had no idea what to say.

And clearly neither did Finn, as all he could do was stare at his redheaded friend in horror.

"Aerrow," he said weakly.

Aerrow gulped.

He walked over to the blond and hugged him, letting out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. It came as a relief that Finn didn't hesitate to return it.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm so sorry."

"This wasn't your fault," Aerrow said. "None of this was your fault. You didn't ask to get kidnapped, you didn't ask to get used as bait and you _definitely _didn't ask to get hurt. Do you hear me, Finn? This wasn't your fault."

Finn's grip tightened. He was still afraid and he knew it.

"Finn, we need to get you to a doctor," said Piper. "I don't know how long you've had that wound, but the last thing we need is for it to get infected."

"She's right," Aerrow said, and he leaned out of the hug. "Come on, Finn. Let's get you off this stinking ship."

He led the way out of the engine room and down the corridor, supporting his wingman over his shoulder. Finn's feet fumbled on the ground, as his legs didn't seem to have realised they needed to start working yet.

"What day is it?" he asked, but by trying to speak up he only made his voice sound raspy. "Aerrow, what's the date?"

"The 24th," Aerrow reported. "It's the 24th of December."

"But what year?"

"1915."

Finn looked horrified.

"It's only been two days?" he asked in shock. "Is that how long it's been?"

"Two days," Piper confirmed. "Two days of worrying sick about you, not knowing if you'd been kidnapped or just walked out on us. We never stopped hoping you'd come back."

The marksman was breathless from the revelation.

"You're going to be fine," Aerrow said as they moved through the bridge. "We'll take you to the doctor and get you fixed up and then you can come home and you'll be safe."

"Thank you," Finn repeated.

He shivered as they stepped out of the ship and looked up at their surroundings.

"So it is Amazonia," he said. "I thought he was making stuff up."

"What does 'he' look like?" asked Piper.

She stepped forward to help in supporting him, as he was still unsteady on his feet.

"He…" Finn seemed out of breath just thinking about it. "He was a Merb… always wore a hood, but he had a scar over one of his eyes… h-he's got a knife-!"

"Finn, it's okay," Piper said comfortingly. "He won't hurt you anymore."

Despite her words, Aerrow got a feeling in his gut that something was horribly wrong. He left his friends and jogged forward into the clearing, where he found the cage he had transmuted empty and Junko having a rather heated argument with Stork.

"Well if you hadn't looked away-" the Wallop started.

"I got a stone in my sock!" Stork responded. "I looked away for ONE SECOND and that was all it took for-"

"You didn't have to turn away!" cried Junko. "You could've stayed facing him and he wouldn't have got away!"

"What's going on?" asked Aerrow before the pair deafened each other.

"He let the guy get away!" Junko said and pointed an accusing finger at Stork.

"I got a stone in my sock," Stork said, "and I _had_ to look away so that I could fish it out, and when I did that he slipped through the bars and ran out!"

"We sent Radarr after him to try to see where he went," said Junko, "but he hasn't… oh my gosh, _FINN!_"

He ran away from the earthen cage upon catching sight of his best friend and didn't hesitate to sweep him up in a massive hug, which Finn seemed more than grateful for and happy to return.

"Whatever that guy did to him left him pretty messed up," Aerrow told Stork. "I think… I think he's lost an eye."

"You _think?_" Stork said incredulously. "Either he has or he hasn't, it shouldn't be hard to tell!"

"Well, it is," Aerrow said firmly. "I'm taking him to Dr Clipwing so…"

He trailed off as Radarr returned from the trees.

"Did you find him?" the Sky Knight asked.

Radarr shook his head with a grim expression.

"Alright," Aerrow sighed. "Let's just… consider this later. I'll set off. Meet us on the way to Terra Atmosia. Hopefully we'll be back by sundown, and if not…"

He watched as Junko was asking about Finn's injuries, with the blond visibly holding back tears.

"If not," said Aerrow, "wait for us."


	8. Chapter 8

Aerrow sat there on the chair in the waiting room for what felt like a century or more. He could barely even find the energy to sit up straight, opting instead to slump forward and rest his brow on his interlocked fingers.

He knew he should be feeling relieved. Finn was alive - alive and (presumably) safe - and if all went well it wouldn't be long before he was home and (properly) safe on the Condor.

The biggest issue was that all had most certainly not gone well.

That psychopath, whatever his name was, had half-blinded the Sky Knight's best friend of over a decade.

He didn't know how he was containing his fury. He wanted to rip the walls apart, punch every single face he ever saw and pound what was left into dust. He wanted to take the bastard who'd done this and throw him off the edge of the terra, then track down his corpse and feel it to a lava worm.

But he couldn't.

Wanton destruction wouldn't fix Finn.

The door opened nearby and he looked up to see Dr Clipwing walking out, wiping his hands on a cloth. He got to his feet.

"How is he?" he asked.

"I'm sorry," said the doctor. "I couldn't save him."

Aerrow's heart skipped a beat as he gasped in shock and horror.

"I'm joking," Dr Clipwing said flatly.

The redhead heaved a heavy sigh of relief.

"He's going to live, but I couldn't do very much for his eye," the doctor continued as he donned a fresh pair of gloves. "I removed what was left and cleaned the wounds, and made sure they were properly dressed. I also sutured the gashes; you'll have to make sure he doesn't pick or scratch at them when he wakes up. Right now he's sleeping off the anaesthetic I gave him."

"You sedated him?!" Aerrow asked angrily.

"I did offer a local anaesthetic, but he asked for the general," Dr Clipwing explained. "Considering the severity of the injuries, I can't say I'm surprised that he didn't want to be awake during the surgery. At least he wasn't chatty about it like some of my other patients can be. Assholes."

Aerrow nodded in understanding and resignation.

"Can I see him?" he asked. "I want to be there when he wakes up."

Dr Clipwing shrugged.

"I won't stop you," he said. "Don't be surprised if he's rather bitter, the sedatives can do that to a person. Speaking of which, if I don't get some pure black coffee in my system soon, I'm gonna crack."

He straightened his coat and walked out of the room.

Still apprehensive, Aerrow entered the doctor's office.

He found Finn lying unconscious on the paper-coated bed, bandages covering almost half of his face. Looking at him, sleeping all curled up on his side like that, Aerrow realised that he looked...

..._small_.

This was Finn, one of the most extravagant and larger-than-life people he knew, curled up as though he was no more than a child. If anything the bandages only added to the effect.

His other eye twitched and slowly opened, as the impact of the anaesthetic prevented him from moving quickly. Aerrow smiled in what he could only hope was a comforting way.

"Hey," he said gently. "How do you feel?"

Finn's eye filled with panic as he looked around the room.

"I can't move," he said. "Aerrow, why can't I move?"

"Don't worry," said Aerrow. "It's just the anaesthetic; it'll wear off soon. You wanted to go under, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Finn said quietly, "'coz of..."

His hand was already quite close to his face, so it was relatively easy to move it closer to, to gently feel the dressings that hid half of his face.

"It really happened," he muttered. "That... that bastard, he..."

"It's alright," Aerrow said calmly, and he pulled off his coat and laid it over the marksman's body. "You're safe now. He can't hurt you anymore."

"But what if he can?" asked Finn. "What if he finds me again? What if he comes back to finish me off?!"

"He won't," said Aerrow. "I won't let him. I'm not going to let him anywhere near you."

"But he'll still come after me," Finn said fearfully. "He's still out there, isn't he? He's gonna come after me and try to finish the job, he said he would! He said he was going to take my other eye and he will, I know it!"

"Finn, you're going to be fine," Aerrow repeated, and pulled his friend into a sitting position. "I'm not going to let him hurt you again, I swear."

The marksman pulled the coat tighter around his body, trying his hardest not to look at the Sky Knight.

"So why am I still so scared?" he asked.

"Because you've been through something horrible," Aerrow stated, "and you've lost something that was important to you. Trust me, Finn. I understand exactly how you're feeling right now."

Again, Finn softly stroked the patch of white on his face where his right eye should have been.

"Don't," said Aerrow, and gently pulled his hand down. "That won't do you any good."

He wanted to convince himself that it was just the anaesthetic talking - that Finn would be fine once his thoughts were a bit more cohesive - but he knew from experience that this couldn't possibly be the case.

"What am I supposed to do?" asked Finn in a quivering voice. "I'm a sharpshooter. I rely on my eyes to do my job properly. How am I supposed to keep going when I'm half blind?"

"I kept going when I had only one arm," Aerrow pointed out.

"Yeah, but you got automail!" Finn pointed out. "I'm not gonna get that stuff in my face! I'm already gonna have horrible scars here, I don't want..."

"Want what?" asked Aerrow.

Finn took a deep breath. He was trying to remain calm and was failing horribly.

"I'm useless now, aren't I?" he asked. "I'm never gonna be able to fly or shoot straight when I only have one eye. There's no way I'll ever be any good to you again. If you don't want me in the Storm Hawks anymore, I'll understand. I can just go back to Terra R-"

"Shut up."

Finn froze in shock.

"Don't you _ever_ say anything like that," Aerrow said sternly. "Finn, even if you were totally blind, I would never think of you as useless and I would _never_ want to get rid of you. Are you listening to me? Look at me."

He regretted having to seem so angry, as he was clearly frightening Finn, but tried to calm down when the marksman turned his gaze to him, tears sparkling in his eye.

"You're my best friend," he said. "Why would I not want you around anymore?"

Still frightened, Finn looked away.

Aerrow sighed and pulled him forward, wrapping his arms tightly around his body.

"It was hard enough hearing those words coming out of my own mouth," he said. "The last thing I want is for you to start saying them too."

He felt a strange sense of satisfaction and relief as Finn returned the hug, but this feeling quickly disappeared as the blond's body shook with a heavy sob.

"It's okay," Aerrow muttered. "I promise. You're gonna be okay."

* * *

The Condor was all but silent when they arrived. Even though it was flying, it seemed to hang in mid-air like a ghost, despite the constant brilliant blue flaring of its engines.

"It's okay," Aerrow said to his passenger. "You're almost home."

Finn didn't reply. He had been quiet for a long time.

Upon reaching the runway, Aerrow switched to wheel mode and rumbled to a halt. He was relieved to discover the rest of the squadron waiting in the hangar for their return, even though their faces displayed unfathomable concern and worry.

"Any other attacks while I was gone?" he asked.

"I think we chased them all off," Junko said as Piper helped Finn off the skimmer. "We didn't get any more after you guys left-"

"-and as we were taking off, I'm fairly certain we got a glimpse of a battle-cruiser hightailing it away from Amazonia at what I'm pretty sure is a new airspeed record for Cyclonia," Stork reported. "I doubt they'll be trying anything with us again in a hurry."

"Right," said Aerrow, and he got off his ride. "Listen up, everyone."

All attention turned to him.

"I'm instating a new rule," he said, "I know we don't have a lot of rules, but this one is important and I'll expect you all to follow it, especially in light of recent events. From now on nobody is to leave this ship unaccompanied. You're to always take somebody with you, not matter where you go. It's obvious now that our enemies are trying to single us out, and I'm not going to let what happened to Finn or to me happen to any of you. Understood?"

"Uh, what if we don't have a choice?" asked Stork. "What if we _have _to-?"

"Don't go any further than the runway," Aerrow interrupted. "By leaving ourselves alone, we're putting ourselves at risk. I won't let any of you get hurt. Now I'll ask again: understood?"

It was a few moments before any of them responded, and even then, it was only with nods.

"Good," said Aerrow. "Now let's try to get back to normal. And Finn…"

"Yeah?" His voice was quieter than any of them had ever known.

"It's good to have you back."

Finn nodded.

"Can I go to my room?" he asked. "I'm tired."

"Sure," said Aerrow. "Do you need any help?"

The blond shook his head. He walked slowly over to the door and left the hangar.

"It's unbelievable," Piper said quietly. "I don't think I've ever seen Finn like this."

"None of us have," Junko pointed out. "It's like he's an entirely different person."

"Hey, stuff can do that to you," Stork said in a matter-of-fact tone. "You can be perfectly happy, living with your parents and your siblings and then suddenly a giant tornado comes on the scene and tears your entire terra to pieces."

The rest of the group stared at him.

"I'm, uh, speaking hypothetically," the Merb said quickly.

Radarr squeaked in bafflement.

"I don't know when Finn's going to recover or even if he will," said Aerrow, "but we aren't going to let this drag us down. He's still a valued member of our team and deserves to be treated as such. We're going to help him readjust to normal life. Agreed?"

"Agreed," was the consensus from the rest of the squadron.

"You know, it's weird," said Piper. "We always seem to come dangerously close to falling apart whenever one of us is absent. Has anyone else noticed?"

"Well, we're all here now," said Stork as he made for the door, "so don't anybody go falling apart on my watch."

The door sliding closed behind him almost seemed rude.

"But we're not all here, are we?" asked Junko. "We don't have Ed."

"He'll be back in a few days," Aerrow reminded. "If we can rescue Finn, I'm sure we'll be able to hold up until our resident alchemy expert gets back."

* * *

The sun was hanging low over the horizon. The sky was stained brilliant orange and red and the clouds were glowing pink. The breeze felt cold and crisp and tasted ever so slightly of snow. There was a strange kind of tension in the air, like something big could happen at any moment and nobody would notice until it had destroyed the world. The atmosphere couldn't even be cut with a knife.

"Brother?"

Ed looked up and saw his sibling, standing over him holding two steaming mugs.

"Aren't you cold?" he asked.

"Nah, I'm fine," Ed replied as Al sat down next to him. "I just wanted to come out and watch the sunset. It's really peaceful tonight."

"Never had you pinned as the poetic type," Al commented as he passed him a mug.

"You'd be surprised," said Ed. "I've had a lot more time to think ever since I quit the whole State Alchemist thing."

"Even with being a tutor?"

"Even with being a tutor."

The drink was cocoa, with the half-melted remains of a marshmallow floating on top. Ed took a sip and breathed in bliss as warmth spread throughout his body.

"Jeez," he sighed. "Say what you will about Granny's temper, but she makes a damn fine cup of cocoa."

"Actually," said Al, "it was Winry this time."

"Winry?" Ed stared at the frothy brown liquid. "I guess she makes a damn fine cup of cocoa too."

"Yeah," Al said as his brother took another sip. "She'll make you a good wife someday."

Ed forced himself to not spit out his drink. He hurriedly gulped before his mouth started to burn. Al couldn't avoid laughing at the sight.

"First Hughes and now you?!" he exclaimed. "How many times do I have to say I'm not interested in Winry before you people finally get it into your thick goddamn heads?!"

"It was a joke!" Al giggled. "Wow, Brother, you really need to lighten up."

Ed glared at his laughing brother in contempt.

"I spend a few weeks separated from my brother and he betrays me," he said dramatically, and rested his jaw in his hand. "You really know how to hurt a guy, Alphonse."

"Oh Brother, don't be so dramatic," said Al. "You know I didn't mean you any harm, right?"

"I know," Ed responded. "I just… missed you."

Al shuffled a little closer.

"I missed you too," he said.

He pulled his sleeve down and lifted the edge of his glove aside so that the wristband he now wore was visible.

"You like that thing, huh?" asked Ed.

"Of course I do," said Al. "It's beautiful, Brother. Plus, even if it was the ugliest thing ever, it would still be a gift from you and that's what makes it special. You didn't even have to get it for me; just you coming here would have been a more than perfect present."

"Al, you're sixteen," Ed pointed out. "It's supposed to be a special occasion. More special than mine was, anyway."

"You mean because you were on the run from the military?"

"Yeah. I didn't get any chance to celebrate. It just sorta came and went. Truth be told, I almost forgot it."

Al looked away with a frown.

"I-I'm sorry," Ed said quickly, "I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, Brother," Al interjected, and he placed his cocoa down and looked up with a smile. "We'll just make sure your seventeenth is special."

"Don't worry about it," said Ed. "I'm a bit beyond big extravagant birthdays."

Al didn't respond.

When Ed looked at him, the younger boy's eyes had somehow enlarged and were sparkling in the light of the sunset, and his lower lip appeared to be wobbling quite prominently.

"Please don't give me that look," Ed requested, trying to avoid cringing at the sight.

"_Please_, brother?" Al pleaded. "This is the first time in years that I've gotten to properly celebrate my birthday! It wouldn't be right for you to miss out! I'm sure there's something that we could do to make up for all the times we never got to have parties. Please will you let us do something for you?"

He clasped his gloved hands together as if in prayer and somehow pouted even harder.

Ed stared. He hadn't known Alphonse to ever make himself look so deliberately cute.

"Ugh, I can't say no to that face," he sighed. "Alright, go ahead."

"Yes!" Al pulled his brother into a hug that was made all the more cuddly by their thick coats. "I promise I won't let you down, Brother! I'll give you the best birthday celebration you've ever had!"

Ed awkwardly put down his mug so that he could even more awkwardly return the hug.

"You know who we'll have to invite, don't you?" he asked.

"You mean Mr Mustang?" asked Al as he released Ed. "I think he and his men are still a bit too busy in Ishval to-"

"I don't mean that bastard," Ed said bitterly. "I was thinking of a different kind of team. You know the ones I'm talking about, right?"

"The Storm Hawks?" Al realised. "Well of course they'd be invited! Why wouldn't they be?"

"You never know," said Ed. "They could be busy. For all we know, the Wastelands could boil up and submerge the entire planet, or Cyclonia could pick that exact day to launch a full-scale invasion of Atmos."

Al stroked his chin in thought.

"How would a single terra simultaneously invade every other terra?" he asked.

"I dunno," Ed shrugged. "They'd probably find a way. That crazy girl they have as their leader managed to tear their universe open, so who knows what she's capable of?"

"But she could take a day off too," Al pointed out. "Like you said, you never know."

"Can we not worry about it right this second?" asked Ed. "We've still got weeks to go before my birthday, so that's weeks to get it all planned out."

"Okay," Al said, and he looked out at the sunset with a smile.

From their position on the steps, they could see out over the fields and right down to the end of the road that led to their home, all illuminated in a golden light that quickly faded with the sun.

Somewhere, a pigeon cooed into the evening.

"It's good to be home," Al commented, his breath misting into the air before his face.

Ed looked up and admired the view.

"Yeah," he said. "You can say that again."

* * *

"_Close your eyes now, time for dreams, death is never what it seems…_"

The music was doing absolutely nothing to calm the turmoil inside his head.

"_Did the things you thought you should, all the things they said were… good…_"

He sat on his bed, wrapped in his sheets and pressing his headphones to his ear, clutching his blankets to his body in hope of some semblance of security. So far, it didn't seem to be working.

The door opened. He flinched and yanked off the earphones.

"Finn, it's okay, it's just me," Piper said as she entered the room. "I guess those new batteries are working, huh?"

Finn paused his music.

"Yeah," he said in a dull voice, "looks like it."

Piper sat down next to him on his bed and passed him a cup and a plate of pancakes.

"I figured you must be hungry and thirsty, so here," she said. "I know banana's your favourite, and I definitely know you love pancakes."

Finn poked a hand out of the blanket and reached around for the cup, which Piper pushed into his fingers.

"Make sure to take small sips," she said. "You don't want to choke yourself. Have those anaesthetics worn off completely yet?"

"Dunno," muttered Finn.

"Well, how much can you move?"

"A bit."

"A bit more or a bit less?"

"A bit."

Piper had to forcibly restrain herself from frowning.

"Are you actually going to drink that or will you just let it go warm in your hand?" she asked.

Finn obediently sipped on the straw.

"I know this is hard for you," Piper said. "I can't even imagine how you must be feeling. You have to remember that you're safe now and-"

"I know."

She fell silent.

"I know I'm safe," said Finn. "I know that bastard can't get to me anymore and I know that if he tries, you'll all stop him. I know he probably can't even get to the Condor. But…"

He lowered the cup.

"But I'm still scared," he explained. "I'm still scared and because of that, I feel like an idiot."

"There's nothing idiotic about it." Piper moved the plate aside and shuffled forward to give him a hug. "I know I'd still be afraid, especially if I was…"

"If you were what?"

Piper wasn't sure what she could say without digging herself deeper.

"Go on," Finn said angrily. "Say it. What were you going to say? Was it useless? Cowardly? Or maybe half-blind, was that it?"

"Finn, no!" Piper pressed herself away from him. "That's not what I meant at all, I was-"

"Then what were you going to say?!" Finn demanded. "Come on, say it! Just say it and get it over with!"

Piper's eyes were wide with shock and fear.

"…kidnapped," she said quietly.

Finn's face fell from anger to almost equal levels of shock.

"If I was kidnapped," said Piper, "even if I hadn't been hurt like you were, I'd probably spend the rest of my life too terrified to even leave my bed. I'd probably seal myself away and listen to music like you are right now."

Finn almost dropped his cup.

"What?" he muttered. "But… but you're so tough!"

"I put on a brave face just like you and everybody else," said Piper. "I'm not invincible, Finn. I never have been and I never will be."

She watched as Finn looked remorsefully away from her face.

"Sorry," he said. "I should've… sorry."

"Don't worry about it, okay?" Piper told him, and she patted him on the shoulder as she got up. "Make sure you eat those pancakes before they get cold. I worked hard on them, you know."

She left the room, and Finn spent several seconds staring at the door after she was gone.

She wanted him to feel better. Everybody did. The fact that he wasn't feeling better was horrible because now he felt guilty for it. They were all trying so hard to help him recover from this incident and it _wasn't working_.

His gaze wandered to the plate nearby, with its short stack of pan-fried pastries topped with a drizzle of syrup and a little knob of butter. Even if she hadn't told him, it was obvious Piper had put this little meal together because it looked like something out of a magazine.

It even had a fork sitting on the side.

His stomach gurgled loudly. He hadn't eaten anything since before he was abducted. He really was starved.

With that in mind, he tugged the plate closer.

* * *

"Missing?"

Master Cyclonis only barely glanced over her shoulder.

"Yes, master," Ravess repeated. "The ambush was unsuccessful and your agent is nowhere to be found. We did, however, find the corpse of a soldier who was missing his vehicle."

"And how do you know he was not killed by the Storm Hawks?"

Ravess was glad she wasn't looking at her properly. It meant her frown was concealed.

"With all due respect, Master Cyclonis," she said, "the Storm Hawks are renowned for never taking the lives of Talons or, indeed, any opponent they come up against. And besides, there is a strong indication that it was your agent who was responsible."

"Do you have any evidence to confirm this claim?"

A shiver ran down the markswoman's spine.

"The soldier was found with his eyes stabbed out," she reported.

Master Cyclonis hesitated.

"I see," she said. "This is of little consequence. Either he will find his way back to Cyclonia, where I will ensure punishment for his failure, or he will be captured and imprisoned. Either way, he has proven himself to be nowhere near as capable an asset as we had hoped for, and he shan't be used again. You may go."

Ravess stood and gratefully left the room.

With her back to the door, the Master opened her hand and examined what she had been holding. Its glow hadn't grown any brighter since she last added to it and it hadn't gained any solidity, but hopefully that would change in the near future, with the next addition she would make.

"There isn't any point in lurking in the shadows," she said to the other person in the room. "If you wish to address me, you may as well step forward."

Having been outed, the Dark Ace made himself known.

"Why could you not have sent me on that mission?" he demanded. "You should know by now that I am far more capable than any secret agent of yours ever could be."

"Perhaps," said Cyclonis, "but what you possess in strength, you lack in subtlety. This mission required a quieter, more secretive angle than your usual boisterous attacks."

"And now look where that's brought us," said the Dark Ace. "We're no closer to our conquest than we were a year ago. This secret agent of yours has brought us nothing but humiliation!"

Master Cyclonis closed her fingers around her creation.

"Do not forget your place, Dark Ace," she said quietly. "I am your commander, the ruler of this terra and the rightful empress of Atmos. If you raise your voice to me again, I shall have no choice but to inflict retribution upon you. My decisions are my own and bear their own purposes. Is that understood?"

After a moment, the Dark Ace bowed.

"Understood," he said. "Forgive my insolence."

"As a penance," said the Master, "send for the Raptors. Have them meet me here before the day's end. I have a special mission in mind for Repton and his cronies. If you value your life, do not question this order."

The Dark Ace saluted and left the room.

Alone for real this time, Master Cyclonis drew out a small stick of chalk and, after descending from her pedestal, began to sketch a circle in the centre of the room.


	9. Chapter 9

Ed sat up, panting, his clothes and sheets drenched in sweat.

A quick glance at the window helpfully informed him that it was still the middle of the night. He twitched the drapes aside and, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out frost creeping over the grass in the fields outside.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself and ignore the complaint from his left leg.

There was a gentle knock on the door, which opened soon after to reveal Winry, wearing her hair loose and the vest and shorts that she used as pyjamas.

"Ed?" she said softly. "Is everything okay?"

The ex-alchemist wasn't sure how to reply.

She stepped into the room, carefully and quietly closing the door behind her.

"It sounded like you were having quite a dream," she said. "I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Yeah," said Ed, whose voice was still quietened by sleep. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You didn't sound it. And you still don't sound it."

Winry walked over to him, her face bearing a frown of concern, sat down beside him on his bed and gave his right shoulder a comforting rub.

"You were having a nightmare, weren't you?" she asked, though it seemed more like a statement than an outright question. "C'mon, Ed. I've known you long enough to know when you're trying to hide how troubled you are."

There really was no hiding from Winry. Ed sighed and rubbed his head.

"It was… it was a mess," he said. "It was mostly just… noise. Yelling. Screaming. Explosions and flashes and… and people dying everywhere. But when I tried to see who they were, I couldn't make out their faces. And then I felt like my body was being torn apart…"

"It's over now," said Winry. "You're safe here. You're always safe here. You know that, right?"

"I know," said Ed, "but still…"

With his fingers over his mouth, he stared forward into the darkness of his room.

"I feel like something big is coming," he said. "Something huge and unstoppable. I don't know why, but I feel like it's the lead-up to the Promised Day all over again, and this time there won't be anything I can do to prevent it."

Winry hugged him, and he rested an arm around her body. She felt warm and her presence was comforting.

"It might be just the lingering dream," she said, "but if something like that does happen, I know you'll find a way to stop it. The Edward Elric I know doesn't let a little bit of paranoia or crazy nightmares get him down. Does he?"

Ed smiled.

"No," he said, "he doesn't."

His gaze wandered to the window. Through a crack between the drapes he could see the star-scattered sky, with the twinkling light of the stars somehow seeming cold and uncomforting.

"Do you miss Atmos?" asked Winry.

"Kinda," said Ed. "I know Aerrow can only study and train by himself for so long before he needs a boost. Besides, I think they actually consider me one of them now. And I bet they'd welcome you and Al too if you asked nicely."

"Maybe we could form our own squadron," Winry said jokingly. "We could be the… the Resembool Rangers."

"Resembool Rangers?" said Ed. "What kind of dumb name is that?"

"Hey, it's the…" Winry trailed off as she was interrupted by a yawn, "…the best I could come up with on short notice."

Ed turned back to her and saw that her eyes were half-lidded and sleepy.

"If you're okay," she said, "I'll go back to bed."

She stood up and made for the door.

"Wait," Ed said quickly, and grabbed her hand before she had a chance to move out of reach.

She looked back at him in confusion.

"You know," said Ed, and hoped the darkness would hide the redness in his face, "there's always room in my bed. I-if you wanted to keep warm."

Thankfully, Winry smiled, and she climbed into the bed and they settled down next to one-another.

"Goodnight, Ed," she said quietly.

"Goodnight, Winry," Ed replied.

He had already closed his eyes when he felt something warm and somewhat soft nudge against his chest, and looked down to see the mechanic cuddling against his body. Whether it was for warmth, comfort or something else entirely, he couldn't find it in himself to give a damn, and gently rested an arm around her to draw her closer.

* * *

"Hey, Finn?"

Finn didn't look away from his wall. As grateful as he was that his best buddy had come to pay him a visit, he didn't feel much like talking right now.

"Finn, it's been two days," Junko said as he stepped into the room. "You know you have to come out sometime, right? Everybody's really worried."

"Mmph," Finn replied.

Junko didn't say anything else, so Finn looked over to see him, and then shuffled into a different position to get a better look. Losing his eye had even made looking around more difficult.

"I just don't want to come out of my room," he said. "What, is that illegal?"

"No, no!" Junko sounded as worried and friendly as ever. "Finn, we miss you. I miss you. I miss my buddy! Can you at least tell me why you won't come out? If we got attacked, we'd be done for if we didn't have our sharpshooter!"

Finn didn't say anything to reply. He gently rubbed the soft, papery patch that covered where his eye had been with the tips of his fingers, and looked up at Junko in the hopes that he wouldn't have to say anything to make what he was thinking clear.

"Oh," the Wallop said sadly. "So… but you use a scope! Don't you only need one eye for that?"

Finn opened his mouth to reply, probably with something scathing, but couldn't think of anything that wouldn't immediately be countered by some more sensible point.

"Tell you what," Junko said cheerfully. "How about we go into town and see if we can get you a cool new eyepatch?"

"You sure? I'd look like a Murk Raider."

"But I won't be allergic to you!"

The bunk creaked threateningly as Junko sat down on it.

"C'mon, Finn," he said pleadingly. "I hate seeing you all cooped up like this. It's not you. I know it's tough and I know what happened to you was horrible, but you can't let it take over your life."

He really was trying hard, wasn't he? Just trying so, so hard to make his best friend feel better. It was almost painful to witness. And if there was one thing Finn hated, it was when Junko was painful to witness.

He turned to look at his friend with a faint smile.

"Sure," he said. "Alright."

Junko's smile was considerably wider than his, and he grabbed Finn's hand (though making sure not to squeeze too tightly) and led him out of his bedroom.

* * *

"Okay," said Piper, "let's move on to metals."

She rested one hand against the punching bag and stood solid, holding it steady as Aerrow's fists thumped into it.

"How is bronze created?" she asked.

"Bronze is an alloy of tin and copper," Aerrow replied. "The process of creating bronze is as simple as melting the two metals together, though they can be combined through alchemic means. However, the first and more traditional process is far more reliable."

"Very good," said Piper. "Now then, which metal is best at conducting electricity?"

"Most people would immediately guess copper," said Aerrow as he punctuated his punches with a kick, "but the truth is that silver is the most conductive of all known metals. It's for this reason that it's used in the construction of automail, as it's best at carrying the nerve signals from the brain. There have been prior experiments with copper, but these proved almost entirely unsuccessful and silver has been used ever since."

"Great!" Piper said cheerfully. "So what's the name given to the alloy of iron and steel?"

"Trick question." Aerrow's eyes remained fixed on the punching bag as he hit it again and again. "Iron and steel are different forms of the same element. What sets them apart is that steel is more refined and has fewer impurities. This makes it more durable and opens up a far wider range of uses, especially in weaponry, armour and automail."

"Excellent!" said Piper. "Wait, hang on…"

Aerrow paused in his attack and waited for her to turn a page, and resumed his punching and occasional kicking once she was done.

"Aerrow," she said, "don't you think you'd be able to concentrate better if you weren't attacking a punching bag?"

"In order to master alchemy," Aerrow said, "both the body and the mind need to be trained. I wouldn't want my teacher to think I'd been slacking off while he was away and I have quite a bit of catching up to do."

"Yeah, I get that," said Piper. "But is it really necessary for you to do both at the same time?"

"Maybe," Aerrow said. "Maybe it would be best to do it this way. What's it like for you, fighting with crystals?"

He slammed one final left hook into the bag.

"You have to concentrate both on your crystals and your fighting, right?" he asked. "I think alchemy's kinda similar."

Piper closed the book with a pondering expression.

"Probably," she said, and with a chuckle added, "though really it's more-or-less automatic for me. I just reach for a crystal and the right one slides into my hand. I'm beginning to think it's some kind of psychic ability."

There was no reply from Aerrow. All that happened was a slight shudder of the punching bag.

"Uh…" the Sky Knight said awkwardly, "Piper? Little help?"

With a frown, Piper noticed the metal fist poking out her side of the punching bag.

"Ugh, Aerrow!" she sighed exasperatedly. "Not again!"

She walked around and took hold of his elbow, and pressed her other hand against the punching bag.

"You have to be more careful," she chastised. "This is the third time in three weeks! How is it even possible for you to go through so many so quickly? It's not like they're fragile!"

"Yeah, I know," said Aerrow. "Trust me, I'm just as annoyed as you."

"On three," Piper said, and he propped his foot against the bag. "One… two… three!"

Both of them pushed against the bag and, after several seconds of struggling, Aerrow's plated arm came flying out, trailing torn-out lumps of stuffing behind it. He lost his balance and Piper snatched forward to catch him, but instead fell down on top of him.

They lay there for several seconds, one on top of the other, trying to catch their respective breaths.

"Are you…" Aerrow panted. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Piper replied. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"I guess… thanks," said Aerrow.

"No problem," Piper said with a smile. "I just wish you could pay more attention to what you're doing."

"Uh…"

Both of them looked over at the doorway.

"…shall I come back later?" asked Junko, who stood there looking nervous and embarrassed.

It was only then, being stared at by a confused and blushing Wallop, that Aerrow and Piper realised just how compromising their position – lying flat on the floor, one on top of the other, trying to catch their breaths – really was. Immediately they scrambled to get up.

"W-what do you want, Junko?" asked Aerrow as he tried and failed to lean casually on the busted punching bag and then realised how rude he'd probably sounded. "I-I mean, uh, is there something I can help you with?"

"No, um, not really," Junko said awkwardly. "I just thought I should tell you guys that me and Finn are going to be going out for a bit. I don't know how long we'll be, but we aren't gonna leave the terra, so… yeah, see you later."

He walked away and the door closed behind him.

"So he finally managed to get Finn to come out of his room?" Piper said, and it was hard to tell if she was speaking to herself. "That's definitely a good sign."

"Or a sign that Junko's just very persuasive," Aerrow suggested. "It's hard to say no when he starts up with the puppy-dog eyes."

"Yeah," Piper giggled.

Several seconds passed as they tried their utmost to avoid looking each other in the eye.

"I should… uh…" Aerrow said, "…I should probably… um… put my shirt back on."

"And I'll get started packing these books away because we can pick this up again later," said Piper. "Got lots of studying and lots of catching up to do, you know?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

"Yeah."

"Good."

"Good."

* * *

The noise – a rough combination of chatter, bells, hissing engines and the occasional faraway hoot of a train's horn – heralded a feeling of familiarity as Ed stepped off the train, and his nostrils were hit by the smell of burnt coal and steam.

'Yeesh,' he thought. 'Haven't smelt that in a while. Country air really cleans you out.'

He didn't need to hurry, so he idly wandered to the exit and stepped out into the warm air of Central.

'I wonder if Aerrow's been studying and training like I told him to?' he wondered. 'Nah, I bet he's just been slacking off.'

He hefted his suitcase over his shoulder, where he could carry it more comfortably, and thumped (since its weight made him less than graceful) down the steps in the direction of the command centre.

* * *

The sky was cloudy, so Finn probably looked very out of place with his sunglasses on, but he didn't care because it was a lot less eye-catchi- a lot less _noticeable_ than a patch.

He kept his head bowed, face angled towards the ground. He knew he was a hot stud, but right now the last thing he wanted, oddly enough, was to draw attention to himself.

"I hope it's not gonna rain," said Junko. "I heard it was going to be sunny today."

"Maybe it will be," Finn said. "Maybe it'll be nicer later."

"Maybe," Junko replied uncertainly.

Finn adjusted his shades. Combined with the bandages that still covered almost half of his face, there was no doubt that he looked odd. Like some sort of half-assed Invisible Man. Next thing he knew he'd be drowning himself in chemicals trying to make the rest of him disappear too.

Which, come to think of it, didn't sound like a bad idea.

_No._ He slapped himself. He couldn't afford to start thinking like that. Especially not when so many people still had faith in him.

"Finn, are you okay?" asked Junko. "Why did you just slap your own face?"

"I'm fine," said Finn, and surprised himself with the fact that he wasn't entirely lying. "It was just a bad thought. That's all."

Junko smiled.

"And you don't want bad thoughts, do you?" he asked.

"Not now," Finn replied. "Not now I don't need them."

"You never need them!" Junko argued. "Finn, since when did you _need _bad thoughts? You don't! Nobody needs them! All bad thoughts do is make you feel horrible! But don't slap yourself."

Finn scoffed.

"Yeah, alright," he said. "I've had enough damage done to my face as it is."

There was no reply from Junko.

When Finn turned to see why, he noticed that his friend was frowning.

"What?" he asked.

"Why would you say something like that?" Junko asked him. "Why would you talk about yourself that way?"

Finn wasn't sure how he could reply.

He found himself stopped and turned around as Junko held him still and looked him dead in the eye.

"Would you say something like that to me?" he asked. "Would you?"

Stunned, Finn shook his head.

"So why would you say anything like that about yourself?"

There was no reply. How would someone reply to something like that without either digging themselves deeper or looking like a liar?

He didn't get a chance to think up an appropriate response before Junko pulled him into a tight but gentle hug.

"Please be nice to yourself, Finn," he said. "I know it's hard for you right now, but that's even more reason not to be mean to yourself. Please. Please don't be mean to yourself."

Finn returned the hug, and not just because it would've been rude not to.

"I'll try," he replied.

"Good," said Junko, and released him. "Now let's go! If it does start raining, I don't want us to get too wet."

He took Finn by the hand and led him further into the town.

"I don't really want some plain old black patch," Finn said as he struggled to avoid jogging. "Have you seen those? Have you seen how sweaty they look?"

"You could put something on the other side to make it soft," Junko pointed out. "Maybe you could do a drawing on the front! You could do what Aerrow did with his automail and put the squadron insignia on it!"

Finn smiled briefly.

"Yeah," he agreed, "that probably would look pretty neat."

He allowed Junko to drag him further until they went past the tree that was the centrepiece of Terra Atmosia, upon which he tugged on his arm, trying to get him to stop. Thankfully, he did.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Ssh!" hissed Finn, and he pointed at the tree.

There was an Amestrian soldier leaning against it, gazing up idly into the bare branches.

"So?" said Junko quietly. "It's a soldier, so what? There's loads of them around these days."

"Sure," said Finn, "but I bet you there's plenty who don't look like older versions of Aerrow."

Confused, Junko looked up at the soldier. It was true that he bore more than a passing resemblance to their Sky Knight, and not just because his messy hair was exactly the same colour.

"Go talk to him," Finn said, gently elbowing Junko.

"What? No!" Junko responded. "What would I even say?"

"In case you're wondering," the soldier said, "I can hear you."

He looked at them with a cocky smirk. It was next to impossible to tell what his eye colour was.

"Wait a minute," Junko said slowly. "A soldier with red hair and weird-colour eyes-"

"Oh my god," Finn gasped. "Are you… are you Lightning Strike?!"

"Maybe," said the soldier. "Or maybe I could be someone completely different. Maybe I could be Wilhelm Blitz. Or maybe I could be the Dust Storm Alchemist."

Finn slapped his fingers to his mouth to hide his gape of amazement.

"Oh my gosh," spluttered Junko, dancing from foot to foot, "oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh-"

"_The _Lightning Strike," Finn muttered breathlessly. "I'm actually standing in front of _THE _Lightning Strike. This- oh my god."

"Hey, cool it," said the Major, and he stepped forward, away from the tree. "I'm just enjoying a bit of quiet downtime; it's not like I'm in a pitched battle right this very moment."

He paused in front of the excited pair, stroking his unshaven chin in thought.

"A Rex-looking kid and a Wallop," he said. "Both wearing patched clothes. You must be the infamous Finn and Junko that my son's told me so much about."

"_He knows our names_," Junko gasped, his voice so high-pitched that it was almost supersonic, and he fainted.

"I can't believe this is happening," said Finn. "I can't believe the greatest Sky Knight of all time is just standing right in front of me-"

"Keep your volume down," Lightning Strike whispered hoarsely. "As far as everybody except your squadron knows, I also had the greatest death of all time and if I do ever decide to make a comeback, I'd rather it was by choice rather than necessity."

Finn obediently fell silent.

"I need to ask you something," said the soldier. "Do you know where I could get a ride around here? There's somewhere I need to go and I'd rather keep discretion to a maximum, for obvious reasons."

"Um…" Finn spent a few seconds thinking this over. "…you could always try Dr Clipwing. He has a skimmer he uses for callouts, but he doesn't get those often."

Lightning Strike didn't reply. He just stared down at the blond with an expression of curiosity.

"What?" asked Finn. "Do I have something on my… _oh_…"

He reached up and felt the right side of his face under his sunglasses. The skin was rough under his fingertips and the gashes were obvious even without the dark glasses.

"Aerrow told me about what happened to you," said the Major.

Finn wasn't sure how to reply. This was a man idolised by almost every Atmosian citizen under the age of eighteen. What was he supposed to say in circumstances like this?

His train of thought was interrupted by a heavy hand landing on his shoulder, and he looked up to see that its owner was smiling.

"You'll get better," he said. "Trust me."

He patted Finn on the shoulder and then walked away, vaguely heading in the direction of Dr Clipwing's practise.

Finn watched him leaving as beside him, his friend starting coming round.

"Wha…" Junko said faintly. "What happened?"

"You fainted," Finn told him. "And for once you didn't do it on top of me."

Junko looked round and saw the retreating back of the greatest Sky Knight the world had ever known.

"He didn't seem as tough as I'd expected," he admitted.

"He was… nice," Finn said numbly as Junko got up. "I knew he was cool, but I didn't really think he'd be… well, _nice_."

"Well, he is Aerrow's dad," Junko pointed out. "Aerrow had to get it from somewhere, right?"

Finn couldn't avoid a faint smile.

"Come on, let's move," he said. "If it does start raining, I don't want to get caught in it."

* * *

There was a crowd around the entrance to Central Command again.

"'Scuse me," Ed said as politely as he could as he pushed through them. "Can you let me through? Some of us have more important things to do than _who trod on my foot?!_"

Nobody owned up to it, so he just continued on.

'Protestors. They're like a cold virus,' he thought as he was allowed in. 'No matter what you do to get rid of them, they always end up coming back somehow. You could tear gas those guys and I bet they'd still find a way to return somehow. Either that or someone will start saying they did nothing wrong, even though they're _clearly _trespassing.'

He started ascending the stairs to the main gate.

'The sooner I get back onto the Condor,' he decided, 'the better.'

But no matter how he tried to shut them out, the shouts of the crowd outside – which, by the sounds of things, weren't sure which chant they were supposed to be yelling – followed him as he climbed.

He looked up to the top of the stairwell and sighed.

This was going to be a long climb, wasn't it?

* * *

The tap squeaked deafeningly as Aerrow turned the water off. He was glad they had a shower, but it was about time it got a little bit of maintenance.

He rubbed himself all over with a towel – paying particular attention to his automail – and pulled his pants on, and paused in drying off his hair to look in the mirror.

There were shadows under his eyes. He hadn't noticed them before, but now that he had, he couldn't stop looking at them. They weren't the darkest he'd ever seen – those tended to belong to Stork – but he'd figured he'd need several more years before they showed up.

Funny. He didn't feel tired.

He ran his fingers along his left cheek, where the faintest of faint pink lines was only barely visible on his skin; a reminder of the first time he had ever done battle with the Fullmetal Alchemist.

Hard to believe it still hadn't healed completely. That was probably his own fault though. All the fights he'd been in kept ripping it open.

His fingers wandered downwards and felt along his cheeks and chin, running over a surface that had been smooth a couple of nights before, but now felt somewhat rough and scratchy.

He'd grown stubble. It wasn't obvious, but a closer look revealed that it was definitely there.

'What is this?' he thought. 'Am I turning into my father?'

He went back to rubbing his hair, pulling the long scarlet locks though the towel, then eventually gave up and tied it back. It would be scruffy no matter what he did, so it would just be more convenient to leave it.

As he pulled on his shirt, he caught sight of himself in the mirror again.

He looked…

…older.

He knew that either way, it wouldn't have been the same Aerrow from a year before – it would always have been an Aerrow far more experienced and stronger – but he looked older than he could've believed. Older than fifteen, at least. He could probably pass for eighteen if he tried.

'Dammit,' he thought. 'I didn't want to grow up.'

After lubricating his arm with a small oil can he now kept in the bathroom closet ("Try to be a role model for Ed, alright? Otherwise he'll allow his leg to go rusty," Winry had requested) he slung his coat over his shoulder and made his way back to the bridge.

Which was where he happened upon a somewhat desperate conversation.

"And you're sure you didn't leave him?" asked Piper. "Not even for a second?"

"Yes, I'm sure of it!" Junko insisted. "I just looked round and-"

"Guys, what's going on?" asked Aerrow, sensing that whatever was happening was definitely serious.

"We lost Finn again," Stork said flatly as Radarr glanced round from the periscope.

"What?!"

"I didn't mean for it to happen!" Junko insisted. "We were just in town and I thought he was with me but then I looked round and he was just gone! I don't know if he walked off or if he saw some girl but I was talking to him and I thought he was being really quiet again but when I looked round he wasn't there!"

"Slow down," said Aerrow, forcing himself to stay calm. "Let's go through this again. You were going into town?"

"Yeah," said Junko. "I wanted to see if we could get him a cool eyepatch."

"And you were talking?" Piper asked.

"It was just a conversation," Junko continued. "I wanted to know if he wanted any modifications made on his crossbow or skimmer to make it easier for him."

"And he was gone when you looked?" asked Stork.

Junko nodded.

"I'm scared," he admitted. "What if that creep got him again? What if he makes Finn blind this time?"

Radarr sighed and put away the periscope, then returned to the crew.

"Did you see him anywhere?" asked Aerrow.

The blue creature shook his head.

"We won't let that happen," Aerrow said to Junko. "Stork, you stay with the Condor in case he comes back. The rest of us are going to go out and search the terra. If we don't find him, regroup back here at sundown. Understood?"

"Right," chorused the rest of the squadron (with Radarr making the appropriate squawking noise).

They turned and strode with purpose and confidence in the direction of the ship's exit.

"Hold tight, Finn," Aerrow said quietly. "We're coming for you."


	10. Chapter 10

*_click_*

"Bugger," Harrier swore, and glared down at the broken half of the nail file as if it had insulted his mother.

He picked it up and tried to resume the task at hand, but with another *_click_* it snapped again. He rolled his eyes, gave up and slapped the broken file into a draw that he'd had built into his desk specifically for broken nail files.

It had turned out to be far more difficult than he had expected, as he had found since his manicurist had quit last week. She'd made quite a point of it too; while supposedly coating his nails in clear protective coating, she had in fact been writing "I QUIT" in brilliant cherry-red letters that still hadn't come off. Supposedly she'd moved to Saharr and become a hair stylist.

Fantastic. He was so fed up that he had started brooding over his _manicurist_.

Still, it wasn't like he had many more interesting things to think about. Training and manoeuvres were finished for the day, he didn't have any more appointments to see to and now that he had finished with the reams of paperwork which he certainly had not been expecting when he took up the role of Sky Knight, there was nothing left. The only noise in the room aside from his own breathing was the overloud ticking of the clock.

He was, quite frankly, bored out of his skull.

If he'd been in the mood, he may have noted that the clear afternoon sky was quite pretty or that the birds were particularly quiet today, but he didn't much care.

He pulled out yet another nail file and tried again. It was better than chewing them off (he'd left that habit behind over a decade ago, thankfully).

But before he could start, there was a ringing noise from the speaking tube next to his desk that made him jump. With a half-grateful half-frustrated sigh, he flipped down the lid.

"Yes," he said, "what is it…" He trailed off, having forgotten the receptionist's name yet again.

"Egret," she said. "You have an Amestrian soldier here to see you, sir."

*_click_* The nail file broke again.

"What?!" Harrier demanded.

"It's true, sir," said… Egret, that was it. "He claims to know you and referred to you as 'Harry'."

Harrier frowned. As far as he knew, there had only ever been one person strange enough to refer to him with that ridiculous name.

"What exactly does this person look like?" he asked.

There was a pause from the other end of the line. Harrier started tapping the broken nail file on his desk in impatience.

"He's… he doesn't want me to say," Egret replied.

"Whyever not?"

"He says that… that it should become clear once he has the opportunity to speak with you. In person."

Harrier pursed his lips in annoyance.

"Has he given a reason?" he asked.

"No sir," Egret responded. "He's… he's refusing, sir."

The Rex Guardian wanted to refuse and say that the intruder should be removed from the premises immediately, but the truth was that he didn't have anything better to do that day and this newcomer was sounding disturbingly familiar.

"Very well," he said. "Send him up."

"Yes sir."

With that done, he quickly dumped the broken file in the drawer with its fellows and tried to compose himself.

In the entirety of his career, there had only been two people with the gall to call him Harry without the slightest hint of irony, and they had been father and son. It hadn't surprised him much that the younger of the two would pick up on the elder's habit, but as far as he knew the elder had been dead for upwards of a decade.

Well, that was what he had assumed. He hadn't exactly seen Lightning Strike perish. He'd been too focused on trying to keep himself alive.

And the rest of his squadron at that time.

And he'd failed.

Damn. He'd told himself he'd have to stop thinking like this, hadn't he?

How long was the typical journey to his office? About thirty seconds? Enough time to compose himself. He checked that he didn't have any hairs out of place, straightened up his collar-

There was a knock at the door.

Harrier quickly straightened a stack of papers.

"Enter," he said.

The door slowly opened with a deafening squeal screaming out from its elderly hinges.

"Wow. When was the last time you oiled these hinges, Harry?"

Messy red hair.

Greenish eyes.

And, somehow, a near-impeccable Amestrian military uniform.

"Didn't you live here?" asked Lightning Strike as he looked around the room. "Wasn't this place your house? Since when was it your office? Since when did you even have any need for an office?"

Harrier stared, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, at the apparent phantom that had just entered the room. It was only when the newcomer seemed to realise this that he noticed how out-of-place he must have seemed.

"Ah," he said awkwardly. "Yes. Me. Well, I guess it would make things easier if I started from the beginning-"

"You _tit_."

Lightning Strike stopped trying to make up excuses.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"You total, abject, complete and utter TIT!" Harrier slammed his fists on the desk and stood up so fast that his chair fell over.

"I won't deny that," said the ex-Storm Hawk.

"What sort of time do you call this?" Harrier marched over to the redhead, seething with fury. "Do you really think you can just show up, over a _decade _after every single person in the world presumed you were dead as dead can be, and greet me as if we were just down at the pub?!"

"No," Lightning Strike agreed, "you're right, Harry, that was stupid-"

"And what in the wide world of Atmosia is _this?!_" Harrier flicked the collar on the royal-blue uniform. "Do you mean to tell me that you have been in Amestris, alive and well, this whole time?! That you've been happily residing there ever since that nightmarish horror of a battle where I got the pleasure of a front row seat to watching you fall screaming to the Wastelands?!"

"Well-"

"I held a memorial service for you, you bastard! Everybody in Atmos was in mourning for your squadron for months! I suppose they're downstairs in the lobby, are they? Just swanning about, pretending like nothing ever happened-"

"It wasn't my choice!" Lightning Strike had to restrain himself from bellowing. "I had a beautiful wife and a perfect four-year-old son. Do you think I would willingly leave them to a world to be conquered by Cyclonia? That I would miss out on Aerrow growing up? Do you think I would happily have sat back and watched as the world I had sworn myself to protect was annihilated before me? Why do you think I recruited your squadron to our cause in the first place?"

Harrier stopped ranting, momentarily stunned, but quickly came to his senses. He crossed his arms and frowned at the soldier who now stood before him.

"So then," he said, calmer but still more enraged than he had ever been in his entire life, "I don't suppose you'd be kind enough to possibly consider explaining-"

"I'll tell you everything," Lightning Strike interjected. "Just so long as you can let me get a word in edgewise. I owe you that much."

Harrier sighed and rolled his eyes.

"What am I going to do with you, Light?" he asked, rubbing his by-now-rather-sore head.

* * *

Somehow the glare from his brilliant blue eyes was simultaneously fiery and icy. Lightning Strike managed, somehow, to restrain himself from shrinking under the glare.

"And that's everything, is it?" asked the Sky Knight.

"Yes," the major replied. "More or less."

It had taken hours to explain absolutely everything the Rex Guardian had wanted to know, as evidenced by the bright orange and pink sunset outside the window. The only noise in the room now was the ticking of the clock, which seemed rather loud and out of place in such a quiet environment.

"So I was correct," Harrier said slowly. "I've spent eleven years believing you'd perished in that awful battle when, in fact, you were alive and well in Amestris this whole time."

"I was alive, yes," Lightning Strike confirmed, "but I wouldn't call it 'well' considering how I was more-or-less homeless for a majority of that time."

"Yet you still managed to master alchemy," Harrier pointed out. "To the degree that you were accepted into that nation's military as a State Alchemist. Somehow the name 'Dust Storm' seems oddly fitting for you."

He sighed heavily.

"And who else knows about this, hmm?" he asked.

"Only the current Storm Hawks and the Elrics," replied Lightning Strike. "I'm not an idiot, Harry; I wouldn't just go around telling everybody that I'm the long-lost presumed-dead leader of the previous generation of Storm Hawks. As far as they know, I'm Wilhelm Blitz. And I figured that since travel between these two worlds recently became possible, I'd stop by and tell and old friend that I hadn't died after all. That's not a crime, is it?"

Harrier scoffed.

"I'd hardly call us 'old friends'," he said. "'Colleagues' would be more appropriate."

"What happened to you, Harry?" asked Lightning Strike. "You were uptight and pompous long before I left, but you never used to be… _this_."

"You'd be surprised what war can do to a man," said Harrier, raising an eyebrow to convey his annoyance. "You of all people should understand that, Light. You must have seen what's become of your precious son by now, haven't you? Or at least heard about the things he's done now that he's stepped into your shoes."

Lightning Strike frowned.

"Yes," he said. "Of course I know."

He raised in eyebrow in his comrade's direction.

"But what about you?" he asked. "Have you got any stories? What's your kid done that mine hasn't?"

Harrier glared at him with a combination of sourness and fury.

"Oh," Lightning Strike said. "Like _that_, is it?"

The blond sighed again.

"It's enough that I now know you're alive," he said bitterly. "I'm not about to dish out details on my personal life, much less spill the beans on _that _subject. I know it may not seem that way, Light, but it is a relief to see you."

"I could say the same to you," Lightning Strike responded. "I was worried you'd be a washed-up drunk by now, but it looks like you're doing better than ever."

Harrier smiled, mostly to himself.

"Yes," he said. "I suppose I am."

Lightning Strike glanced at the clock, then looked out the window at the setting sun.

"Wow, it's getting late," he said, and he got to his feet. "I should be heading back. I borrowed the skimmer I came here on and I don't want to keep its owner waiting for longer than I need to. Don't worry, I can see myself out."

"But I'd feel better knowing you can at least make it to the front door without getting yourself murdered," Harrier told him as he too stood up.

The redhead sniggered, and together they walked out of the office.

"If I remember correctly," Lightning Strike said as they moved down the corridor, "that room used to be used for an entirely different purpose, right? What happened to-?"

"I said I wasn't going to tell you about that," Harrier snapped.

"Fine, fine."

They walked in silence until they reached the head of the stairs, at which point Lightning Strike paused, prompting Harrier to do the same.

"Listen, Harry," said the ex-Sky Knight. "I know I haven't been back for a very long time-"

"-as evidenced by you only now deciding to inform me that you still live," Harrier interjected.

"-but there's something I need to know."

He looked at his old comrade with almost as much ferocity as he had received in their initial reunion, his eyes appearing a steely grey in this dull lighting.

"If you had to," he said, "if you didn't have any other options, would you be able to fight as you did all those years ago?"

Harrier wasn't sure how to reply.

"I get the feeling it might be necessary," Lightning Strike explained. "Something awful is coming. Call it a gut instinct if you want, but Cyclonia is planning something big. Bigger than they did last time. If it comes to it, could you fight against them?"

One only had to look into his eyes just to see how serious he truly was.

"You know," said Harrier, "I had been considering retirement. These old bones won't be able to guard the skies forever, after all. I already have an adequate replacement in mind for when I finally take my leave. But now…"

He smiled, a wild glint in his eyes.

"…seeing you again has reminded me just how fiercely my blood can boil," he said proudly. "Naturally I do hope it doesn't come to it, but if it does, I'll gladly give those Cyclonian wazzocks what for!"

Lightning Strike smiled in return.

"That's good to know," he said. "Because if we ever have to fight, it'll be good to know you'll have my back again. Just so long as you do a better job of that than you did last time."

Harrier frowned at him again.

"Just go," he said. "Get out of this building before I throw you out by your ear."

Satisfied, Lightning Strike descended the stairs.

That had gone better than he had expected. He wouldn't have been surprised if he'd been punched in the face or thrown out the very moment he arrived. He wouldn't have put it past Harrier to have fainted at the sight of him. But while they were far from being classified as old war buddies, it seemed that there wouldn't be any bad blood between them as of his return.

But as he stepped outside into the cool evening air, he suddenly got a strange, unpleasant feeling somewhere in the pit of his stomach. An unmistakeable sense of dread, the likes of which he recalled feeling a little over six weeks ago when…

…oh god, what had happened now?

He leapt onto the skimmer that he had parked nearby and it wasn't long before he was airborne and soaring at top speed in the direction of Terra Atmosia. He got the feeling, somehow, that he had to get there before the sun disappeared below the cloud layer.

Something had happened to his son. And he wasn't sure if he wanted to know what it was.

* * *

Cold.

Goosebumps had sprung up all over his limbs. He could feel his sleeves pressing against them uncomfortably.

Draught.

Wherever the faint wind was coming from, it was fast, sharp and chilling on his face, tickling his cold eyelids and bringing forth painful complaints from his automail and its socket.

Pain.

The back of his neck felt sore, as if somebody had hit it harder than necessary.

He tried to remember what had happened. He'd been walking towards the woods of Terra Atmosia, hugging his coat around his body in an attempt to keep warm, searching for his lost friend, and then…

…something had hit him and he'd blacked out…

Aerrow struggled to sit up. The ground he was on felt rough and uncomfortable, like the floor of a forest, and… and something was wrong with his arms.

Once he'd found something to prop himself up on, he looked down at his left hand. When he tried to twitch his fingers, they thankfully responded, but when he tried to flex his shoulder and elbow, he got nothing. A dislocated shoulder? Piper would not be happy about that.

Maybe if he could get a closer look-

-but even though he could feel his right arm perfectly well, he couldn't move it. Something was holding it in place behind his back, and touching the solid surface behind him, he felt that it was rough and scratchy but slightly crumbly to touch.

He could also feel something thin pressing into his abdomen and when he looked down, he saw a steel cable tied around his waist. Rusty. Obviously old. Would probably break if enough force was applied in the right place, but unless he could figure out a way to get that force, it had him trapped.

He forced himself not to panic. It was dark, but the sun's light wasn't completely gone yet, so he couldn't have left Atmosia, right? Trees… there were trees on that terra, it was true, he knew that since he'd been making a beeline for them, and it made sense that someone would want to keep him out of sight if he'd been-

"So you're awake!"

Aerrow's attention was caught by a sharp blade on his left cheek that forced him to look to the right, and he was met by the hooded, maniacally grinning face of the Merb who had claimed to be Finn's abductor several days ago. It was obviously the same person. The scar over one eye gave it away.

"I was afraid I wouldn't get to see those pretty eyes of yours when they're open," he said. "Now we can get started!"

The blade slashed across his cheek and Aerrow yelped in shock as the scar he had pondered about earlier was suddenly reopened, and spilled blood down to his chin. As the stranger stepped away, he tried to catch his breath. He couldn't afford a panic attack. Not here. Not now.

"What do you want with me?" he demanded.

"See," the Merb said, "I have a bit of a problem."

He grabbed something behind a nearby tree and dragged it into view, and Aerrow gasped in horror at the sight of his oldest friend, bleeding from the right side of his face and too terrified to try to free his bound hands.

"Finn," the Sky Knight muttered weakly.

"I already took one of his eyes," said the Merb, and he pressed the blood-covered side of Finn's face into a tree, where the marksman could only force himself not to cry. "His other one that's left is still so pretty. Like the sky after a storm. A perfect blue."

He shoved Finn roughly to the ground and the blond didn't move, and he leapt over to Aerrow and stared him straight in the face.

"But I think your eyes might actually be much prettier," he said, holding the blade dangerously close to the redhead's cheek. "Green is one of the rarest eye colours, see. The rarest of them all. And even in all of them, I've never seen any as green as yours. They're so bright and beautiful. I can't decide if I should take his other eye or take one of yours. I'd love to have one."

"Why?" asked Aerrow.

As the Merb froze, pondering the question, the Sky Knight started prodding and pulling at the bark behind his back.

"Why do you have to take our eyes?" Aerrow clarified. "Couldn't you just take a picture? A picture of our eyes? Then we'd still be able to see with them, wouldn't we?" It had to be circular, so as to ensure the circulation of power…

"It's not the same!" cried the Merb. "My eye doesn't work properly! Why should everybody else's? It's not fair!"

"But you don't have to do that!" Aerrow responded. The symbol for wood was a trio of circles, grouped together at the bottom of a staff, and if he carved it with his thumbnail…

"It's my own fault, really," said the Merb, whose eyes seemed to dart all over the place and didn't notice how he was edging the blade closer and closer to Aerrow's eye. "I should've listened. I should've listened to him. He told me it was a bad idea. He told me it wasn't going to work properly. He told me I had to be careful. He told me-"

"Who?" Aerrow asked. "Who told you?" If he could just keep him talking for long enough…

"He said 'Heron, be careful with that cable' and 'Heron, don't sit so close' but I didn't listen-"

"Heron?" Aerrow said. "I-is that your name? Heron?"

He glanced at Finn, who hadn't moved at all during this exchange. Secretly and silently, he prayed for him to get up and run.

He was forced to look away when Heron, if that really was his name, seized his jaw and twisted his face to look up at him. His thumbs were tight on Aerrow's cheeks, but the Sky Knight still managed to wrestle his face free.

"Don't you call me that anymore," he snarled. "Heron wasn't loyal to Cyclonia. Heron tried to fight back and that's why they had to hurt him. I'm not Heron anymore. Heron's a _good _boy. And now I know better than to think I can give up!"

"O-okay," said Aerrow, "well, if you really don't want to give up…"

He pressed his hand against the circle he had carved into the tree.

"…perhaps we can play a game of tag."

As he had hoped, a solid spike of wood shot out of the tree and cut through the cable, and he head-butted the Merb, scrambled to his feet and started to run.

He had to find a way back to the town. The sun had gone down by now, but it wasn't too late in the evening. There would still be citizens out and about. There always were. Once he was there, people could help him. They could catch that freak and save Finn. Aerrow knew he wasn't able to fight when he only had one arm in working condition.

Finn…

Aerrow skidded to a halt.

"Oh god, no…" he muttered.

He turned and started to run back.

He'd left Finn on his own. How? How could he have been so thoughtless? He shouldn't have done that. For all he knew, Heron or whatever his name was would just decide that since he didn't have Aerrow's eye available anymore, he'd just take Finn's. And Aerrow _couldn't_ let his friend go blind. Not when he was only starting to recover from losing one eye. He couldn't let him lose the other one too.

When Aerrow found him, he was still lying in the same spot, unmoving save for his breath. Their attacker was nowhere to be seen, but the Sky Knight didn't stop to think about this as he jumped down next to his wingman.

"Finn," he said desperately. "Finn, are you alright?"

"Aerrow," Finn gasped, his left eye closed but still obviously intact. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't think about that right now," Aerrow said, and he tried to untie the rusty cables that bound the blond's wrists. "We have to get you-"

Something struck him upside the face and he fell, dazed, away from Finn. A brief, frightened cry of his name was all he heard from the marksman as he was seized by the collar and thrown against a nearby tree.

He didn't know how he avoided blacking out, but his sight was the first sense to return to fully working order and as he watched, the Merb pressed Finn against a tree trunk with a single hand around his neck and tightened his grip around the blood-stained knife.

"No…" Aerrow gasped.

He curled in his automail fingers, took hold of his metal elbow and stumbled forwards and, as Heron raised the knife to strike down, he hit him across the face with his artificial fist.

With a roar of rage, the Merb leapt upon him, forcing him down and pinning him to the ground with a foot on his right wrist and a knee on his chest. Aerrow could only stare up, eyes wide with terror, as the knife was raised above him.

"Forget the eye," he snarled, "I'll just take your throat!"

Aerrow closed his eyes and waited to feel the hot, sharp pain of the knife in his throat.

But then he heard a crackling sound. Through his closed eyelids, an electric blue light glowed. And then the weight of the Merb was suddenly removed from his body.

There was the steady sound of thumping. Approaching footsteps. They walked right past the Sky Knight.

When he opened his eyes, he saw a figure transmuting the ground under Heron, which sprang up and wrapped around his arms, pinning him to the forest floor. He saw others over near Finn, pulling at the bindings around his wrists and talking to him.

They were wearing uniforms which, in the light of their lanterns, were clearly deep blue.

"Aerrow, are you alright?"

The figure over the Merb straightened up and looked round at him, and in this dimness, his eyes looked brown. They took on a more greenish hue as they were caught by the light of a lantern.

"I ran into your Wallop friend not long after I got back to this terra," he explained. "He said you were heading for the woods to look for Finn, but it was getting late and he didn't know where you were. I wanted to make sure you were okay. So I brought a few reinforcements just in case."

Aerrow found himself shuffling backwards, away from the soldier.

"You are," he found himself muttering as someone gently helped him to his feet. "You really are an alchemist. I mean, I knew you were, but…"

Lightning Strike smiled softly.

"Yes," he said. "Yes I am."

* * *

Piper squinted into her telescope and focused it more to make out a clearer picture.

"They're okay!" she reported. "I can see them! They're coming out and neither of them's lost an eye!"

The rest of the squadron collectively sighed in relief.

"Unbelievable," said Stork, and he sank to his knees with a hand over the left side of his chest. "You kids, you're _killing_ me."

"Can I have a look?" asked Junko.

Piper nodded and passed him the telescope, and Junko's ears perked up as he caught sight of the trio, as well as the group that was with them.

"Wow," the Wallop muttered. "Aerrow and his dad look _really _alike."

"One's a Sky Knight and the other's a State Alchemist," murmured Stork. "I guess death wishes run in the family."

There was, suddenly, a squawk from Radarr that would likely have been "Hey!" if he'd been able to talk. In any case it got their attention, and with an expression of awkward nervousness, he pointed over one shoulder at the door.

None of them had noticed it opening.

So none of them had noticed the new arrival who stood there, holding his suitcase in one hand and scowling in annoyance at all of them.

"Why do I feel as if I've missed something?" demanded Ed.


	11. Epilogue

"How many?"

The major looked down at his son, who stared straight ahead with something between abject terror and sad resignation in his eyes.

"Dad," Aerrow said with doubt in the word, "you told me you used alchemy to send people to Atmos, and that unlike Ed, they didn't come back."

He looked up at the man, with a strange kind of anger somewhere in the fear.

"How many did you send?" he asked. "How many people did you strand in this world?"

Lightning Strike spent quite a while looking at his face. He had known this question would come up eventually and why wouldn't it? His son had the right to ask, as well as the right to know.

"Seven," he confessed. "Over a two year period spent in a slum outside Central City. The Fullmetal Alchemist was number eight."

Aerrow took a breath. He was clearly about to shout.

"Please," Major Blitz interrupted, "please let me explain."

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Aerrow quietened down.

"The first was a woman named Sigrid," said the soldier. "She arrived in the slum a few months after I did with her husband Matthias. She was a northern woman by ancestry and very tough. Tougher than Matthias. She made that very, _very_ clear. They always tried to deny it: they said Matthias was clumsy, Matthias had bad eyesight, Matthias wasn't strong enough to carry something, but everyone knew the truth. Everyone heard the rows. Everyone saw his cuts and bruises. And every time someone was called, they did nothing. We were poor and not much more than homeless, so what was the point?"

He pinched his brow. These were _not_ pleasant memories.

"I told her I wanted to speak to her in private," he said. "My first test subject was supposed to be me, but the conversation got... heated, to say the least. It came to blows and before I knew it, Sigrid was on the transmutation circle. Like I said, she was the first, but it was more from desperation and instinct than anything else."

Aerrow wasn't sure what to say. He was glad that it hadn't been any innocent person, but even if she was so horrible, she was still a person, wasn't she?

"The next was a man named Anderson," said Lightning Strike. "He came to the slums saying his wife had died, and I think in hindsight we should have asked a few more questions about that. One night we heard one of the girls who'd been there a while - an Ishvalan named Elsanna - screaming for help, but by the time we found her, the damage had been done. Everyone knew it was Anderson, but neither of them owned up to it."

"So he..."

"Yes. He even boasted about it to me, saying that Elsanna was far more entertaining than his wife. So I got him drunk and sent him off. He may have been the only person I actually found satisfaction in transmuting."

Aerrow felt his anger fading, to be replaced with a horrifyingly familiar nausea.

"Elsanna was third," the Dust Storm Alchemist continued. "Anderson had left her pregnant with a child that she had no hope of supporting or caring for and no way of disposing of without waiting until it was born, and those Ishvalans have some rather strict rules and beliefs about unborn children. She wanted me to kill her - to take her life and relieve her of her shame - so I told her..."

He wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

"I told her that one of two things would happen with my transmutation. Either she would end up in a world where no person would recognise her, and so she wouldn't be judged or hated for what happened to her, or she would die. And she... she was probably the only person who was happy with what I did."

It was honestly becoming very, very difficult for Aerrow to remain angry at him.

"Number four was a man called Carlos," said Lightning Strike. "He was Matthias' former employer, or at least, that's what he called himself. Said Sigrid owed him money and that if she didn't come to pay up, he'd take Matthias to Aerugo in a series of briefcases. It wasn't long before he became violent. Started beating up folks in town and leaving death threats. It was infuriating, but the final straw didn't come for me until he killed Birdie."

"Birdie?" Aerrow was confused by the strange name.

"A cat that had been living in my shack before I moved in. Tortoise-shell coat, very friendly, and Carlos impaled her to my door with a railway spike through the neck. I told him that he wasn't welcome, that he needed to leave. I gave him fair warning. But he sneaked into my house that night and tried to do to me what he'd done to Birdie. I somehow wrestled him into the circle, knocked him out on the ground and..."

It was amazing how nobody else seemed to be listening to him except Aerrow. Did nobody care?

"Fifth was a woman called Sarah," said the Dust Storm Alchemist. "She'd come to the slum before I did after losing her job as a nurse. Didn't help matters that her children were sick and kept getting worse, which didn't make a lot of sense because all three of them were perfectly healthy when I'd arrived. Two daughters and a son, all suffering together, with nothing she could do about it. Or at least, that's what I'd thought."

"So what did she do?" asked Aerrow, who had noticed a recurring theme in these sacrifices.

"She'd lost her job because she'd been poisoning her patients," Lightning Strike replied. "The sicker they were, the more she was paid for treating them, but they couldn't prove much so she got fired rather than going to prison. She'd been lacing her children's dinners with arsenic in the hopes that having three very sick children would lead to people taking pity on her and giving her another job, and when I confronted her about it, she threatened to implicate me for Sigrid, Anderson, Elsanna and Carlos' disappearances. It wasn't until her son died that I managed to take her out. I offered her drinks to take her mind off it and, when she'd passed out..."

By now Aerrow wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to think.

"A couple of months later, the slum was taxed," said the soldier. "The land it was on was owned by a second lieutenant named Blake. He said that he was tired of us freeloading off him and even got some men he'd hired to raid our houses and take whatever money they could get their filthy hands on. I'd been practising alchemy for almost a decade by then, so I used it to break into his manor and steal it all back, along with the list that detailed how much had been taken from each person."

"And Blake found out it was you?"

"Of course. Flaming blood red isn't exactly a common hair colour in Amestris. He followed me back, threatened to call the authorities and pulled a gun on me when I refused to turn myself in. He'd barely even got ten thousand cenz from the people in the slum and he was prepared to kill me for it. You can see why I didn't regret what I did to him."

"So who was the last one before Ed?" Aerrow asked, as he couldn't contain his sick curiosity.

Lightning Strike's face was solemn.

"It was Matthias," he confessed. "He'd adopted Sarah's daughters after she'd died and they'd actually started recovering. They were brighter, happier, smiling much more. A few months away from regular doses of arsenic will do that to a person. But then, one day, they were both... different. Lucy was completely silent and Catherine wouldn't stop crying, and both of them were covered in bruises."

Aerrow figured he had a rough idea of what had happened.

"As it turned out," the soldier said, "Matthias had turned to drink after Sigrid's... disappearance. He tried to take care of the girls, but one night he had too much to drink and, to put it simply, started mimicking his ex-wife. He'd pushed himself into a spiral of self-destruction and I'd been so caught up in trying to find a way back to Atmos that I hadn't even noticed. Even if he'd believed he'd had a purpose in life, there was no hope for him. On the night I transmuted him, he'd drunk himself to unconsciousness and he was barely breathing. I don't expect he survived the journey. And if he had, I hope he found himself a new life."

Aerrow's heart fell. He'd been hoping that Matthias would recover after being separated from his abusive wife, but instead the opposite had happened.

"The Fullmetal Alchemist was an act of desperation," said Lightning Strike. "I couldn't allow myself to get caught and arrested, not after I'd made so much progress with my alchemy. I knew I needed more time."

"More time?" Aerrow felt his fury rising again. "You'd had a whole decade and you didn't know if any of your sacrifices had survived the transmutation!"

"I know that now," said the major. "It wasn't until I realised I'd transmuted an innocent fifteen-year-old boy that I saw what I'd become. I was turning into a pseudo-Master Cyclonis. But when I saw he'd returned by himself and overheard him talking about Atmos, I realised I'd been successful. So I made plans for another transmutation: a reverse one that would hopefully bring the rest of my squadron to me, as I kinda thought I wouldn't have a place in this world anymore with everything I'd done. It took me a whole year to prepare and it used up the last of the Philosopher's Stone that I'd stolen, and when it looked like I'd failed..."

He gestured to his uniform.

Aerrow looked it over, taking in the royal blue fabric and its shining silver lining. It seemed far too rich for a Storm Hawk to be wearing.

"And you did all that," he said quietly, "just to try to see me again."

"Just to see your face one last time," said Lightning Strike. "I couldn't bear the thought of never reuniting with you. I'm very proud of what you've become, and you have an excellent squadron."

At the last word, Aerrow looked to his other side, and the blanket-wrapped boy that sat there next to him.

Finn hadn't moved for the entirety of Lightning Strike's explanation. He was staring blankly forward with absolutely no expression in his eye whatsoever. The sky blue that had formerly sparkled with indomitable spirit was now dull and lifeless. He looked more like a corpse than anything else.

Aerrow laid what he had intended to be a comforting hand on his shoulder, but felt the blond shiver at his touch and quickly withdrew his fingers.

"Finn, you're safe," he said. "The only person who's ever escaped from Atmosia's prison is me and that was just because I had Radarr's help. That bastard will never be able to hurt you again."

Finn blinked.

That was it.

At the sound of commotion, Aerrow looked up, and saw the soldiers trying to hold someone back.

"This is a restricted area!" one of them said.

"Sorry sir, you're not allowed past!" said another.

"I don't give a damn about that!" the intruder exclaimed. "Let me pass, you bastards! Let me see my goddamn student!"

"Let him pass," said the major. "It's alright."

The troops parted and Ed stepped forward, a furious frown distorting his face.

"Flyboy, what the hell is going on?!" he demanded. "I went up to the Condor and they said you were here and that- Major Blitz?"

The Dust Storm Alchemist nodded in acknowledgement.

"What you doing here, what's... Finn?"

Finn closed his eye and curled in on himself even tighter than he already had.

Somewhere between outrage and bafflement, Ed turned to Aerrow, silently demanding an explanation.

"It's a long story," said the Sky Knight. "We should go back to the Condor first."

* * *

"Apprehended," Master Cyclonis repeated calmly.

"Yes, Master," Ravess confirmed. "Our spies report that your agent has been arrested and imprisoned on Terra Atmosia. However, it appears he was captured by Amestrian troops rather than any Atmos citizens."

Cyclonis turned her head slightly at this announcement.

"Was he now?" she said.

"Yes, Master."

A small smile danced on the teen girl's lips.

"Thank you for informing me, Ravess," she said. "That is all. You may go."

Obviously grateful, Ravess departed.

However, Cyclonis knew she wasn't alone in the room.

"You have spent some time in Amestris posing as one of their troops," she said to the other person she knew was there, lurking in the shadows as he always seemed to enjoy. "Is this correct?"

"It is true, Master," said the Dark Ace as he stepped forward. "As always, I live to serve you."

"Then perhaps you can confirm for me exactly what may happen now that a citizen of Atmos was arrested by soldiers of Amestris?"

The Dark Ace nodded.

"Even though he was one of our agents," he said, "it is likely that the people of Atmos will become suspicious of Amestris. This suspicion may even turn to distrust, which will only aid us in our journey towards victory."

"Correct," said Cyclonis. "The fact that we have lost that boy merely shows that he was not as worthy of service as my grandmother would have had me believe. Despite dealing a strong blow to those despicable Storm Hawks, he is not a person I shall be trusting again in the near future."

"Understood, Master," said the Dark Ace, and he bowed to his empress.

"While we are on the subject…"

She turned to face him, glaring down at him with danger in her violet eyes.

"…would you care to explain a few choice rumours that are reaching my ears?"

The Dark Ace kept his head bowed to conceal his confusion.

"Rumours, Master?" he asked tentatively.

"The first task you were ever assigned as a soldier of Cyclonia," she continued. "The task of eliminating the Sky Knight and leader of the Storm Hawks before he had a chance to set his dogs upon us. Why is it now that I hear you have failed? That Lightning Strike has been sighted on Terra Atmosia?"

The Talon commander could only pray that his master couldn't see the sweat that was rapidly beading on his forehead.

"Master," he said carefully, "from what I know, these rumours are baseless. Nothing more than whispers on the street. I would have known if I had failed in the very first mission I was ever assigned. Considering that his child is almost sixteen, it is likely that-"

"That is all I needed to hear," Cyclonis interjected. "You may go, Dark Ace. _Now_."

The Dark Ace obediently straightened up and left the room.

He wasn't telling the whole truth. That much was clear. But to get rid of him now would mean getting rid of one of Cyclonia's most powerful soldiers, not to mention a potentially vital backup should things not go according to plan.

With that in mind, Cyclonis pulled a crystal from her pocket, and when she held it aloft, an image was projected before her.

An image of a little black-haired girl, cuddling a well-loved toy, standing beside a throne upon which an elderly and strong-looking woman was seated.

"Our plan is coming to fruition, Grandmother," Cyclonis whispered with a smile. "I can't wait to make you proud, and I'll gladly grind those Sky Knights into the dirt in the process."

* * *

"A citizen of Atmos was apprehended by Amestrian troops," Piper said, mostly to herself, but also to the group. "I don't even want to know how many cats this is going to let out of the bag."

"I'm just glad you guys are okay," Junko said sadly. "It must've been really scary."

"Yeah," said Aerrow. "It was."

The strategy table on the bridge was, once again, where they had congregated. Stork was steering them on a course to who-knows-where, as Aerrow had requested "anywhere that's far from Atmosia".

"There," said Piper, and she took her screwdriver away from Aerrow's arm. "See how that feels."

Aerrow gave his arm an experimental flex.

"It feels better," he reported. "Thanks."

"No problem," said Piper, and she turned to Ed. "I hope Winry wasn't too harsh on you with what you're doing with us. She'll probably think you breaking your leg is inevitable."

"Yeah," Ed said numbly. "She does."

Nobody responded.

Aside from the rumbling of the engine in the background, the bridge was utterly silent.

"I think I might hit the hay," Aerrow said as he stood up and pulled on his red coat, thankfully shattering the quiet. "Today's left me pretty exhausted."

"Can I speak to you?" asked Ed. "In private? Before you turn in."

Aerrow nodded, and Ed followed him as they departed from the bridge.

They paused once the door had closed behind them.

"What's wrong?" asked Aerrow.

He didn't like the look of Ed's frown.

"I can only assume," said the blond, "that considering the events of the past few days, you haven't done a whole lot of studying."

Aerrow bowed his head in shame.

"I tried," he said. "I read through the books you left me and I tried to keep up with training, but… distractions, I…"

"I understand it," Ed replied calmly. "I know me and Al slacked off for a while after we tried to bring Mom back. I didn't even attempt a transmutation for a whole year."

Maybe Aerrow didn't know how to respond, so he chose not to. It was difficult to tell.

"Listen," said Ed. "I'm not about to pretend I know everything about how to deal with a situation like this. The only thing I can recommend is that you give Finn some time. Don't just pretend like everything's normal and it never happened, because it did and there's nothing you can do about that. Do whatever feels right that'll help him recover. I hate to say it, but I get the feeling the person best qualified to help in that regard would be you."

Aerrow raised a hand to his left shoulder and rubbed the point where metal met flesh.

"Yeah," he said. "I know."

He curled his fingers around the fabric under his hand.

"Well," said Ed, and he started walking away, "I think I'll turn in for the night too. We have a lot of catching up to do starting tomorrow."

"Ed…"

The blond paused in his walking and looked back at the redhead.

"…it's good to have you back," said Aerrow.

Ed smiled briefly, then turned away.

"You need to shave, by the way," he said as he continued walking.

Aerrow's hand moved from his shoulder to his face, where he felt the stubble that had definitely grown more prominent since he had noticed it earlier that day.

As he wandered down the corridor towards his room, his thumb ran along the now cleaned and scabbed cut on his cheek. The scar it left would definitely be more noticeable than last time.

He reached his bedroom door. A quick glance down the corridor showed that Finn's door was still closed, and it showed no signs of having opened in the past couple of hours.

Hadn't the doors been taller than this though?

It opened as he stepped forward and he saw Radarr curled up on the bed. The little blue creature looked up as he entered, and watched as he slowly walked over to the bunk, sat down on it and crossed his legs.

Once that was done, Aerrow kneaded at his sore head with the ball of his right hand.

He…

…he wasn't a kid anymore.

And there wasn't anything he had been able to do to stop it, and no way he would ever be able to go back to those days where he could be happy and carefree and not have to worry about so many horrible things happening to his family…

A little paw was rested on his leg, and when he looked down, Radarr was watching him with worry in his yellow eyes.

Aerrow allowed him to climb up and hug him, and returned it in due course.

Right now, it felt like it was the only thing he could do.


End file.
